


to have a friend

by demistories



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Anxiety, Depression, Developing Relationship, Fake Friends, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mutual Pining, Pining, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt, naps, read chapter notes for warnings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-01-09 14:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 116,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12278814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demistories/pseuds/demistories
Summary: Pretend to be friends with Connor Murphy, who yells at people and skips class to smoke and pushes people and threw a printer in the second grade, for twenty dollars a week.Evan closes his hand around the bill and then stuffs it into his pocket.“I-I’ll do it.”





	1. $20

**Author's Note:**

> hey so if you've ever been told you shouldn't have two multichapter fics going at once you should listen to that advice. i'm just...really impatient. please don't expect consistent updates from me, these are longer chapters and i'm a college student
> 
> thank you to my friend family for encouraging this and by that i mean my god stop encouraging me i have a problem!! but also thank you for putting up with me sending fake dating au prompts for like 3 hours. 
> 
> this first chapter is very much a rewrite of the show from the computer lab scene until the end of the scene in the principal's office. (im sorry but i had to get through this part before anything even mildly original could happen) therefore, it deals with **anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts, and a suicide attempt**. please proceed with caution! i put a summary in the end notes if that's helpful to anyone!!
> 
> i hope you enjoy!!

_Dear Evan Hansen:_

_It turns out, this wasn’t an amazing day after all. This isn’t going to be an amazing week or an amazing year. Because, why would it be?_

_Oh I know. Because there’s Zoe. And all my hope is pinned on Zoe. Who I don’t even know and who doesn’t know me. But maybe if I did, maybe if I could just talk to her, then maybe…maybe nothing would be different at all._

_I wish that everything was different. I wish that I was a part of_ something _. I wish that anything I said mattered, to anyone. I mean, face it: would anyone even notice if I disappeared tomorrow?_

 _Sincerely, your best and most dearest friend_ —

Evan squeezes his eyes shut tightly.

It’s true that at the end of the day, all you’ve got left is yourself, so you should…like yourself. Or something. But calling himself his “best and most dearest friend” is…

Pathetic. It’s pathetic. It’s really sad and even if it is true, the fact still remains that his best friend hates him.

Evan rubs his temples. Thinking about this is just going to send him into a spiral of anxiety that will help exactly no one. Having a breakdown in the computer lab sounds like a horrible, yet fitting, way to finish his first day of senior year.

He signs off the letter with ‘me’, even though it makes his stomach twist, and sends it to the printer.

He just wants to be home and under a blanket and also maybe not existing.

“So…”

Evan freezes, eyes glued to the screen of his laptop. His heart is in his throat and he figures that there’s about an eighty percent chance that he dies right now. He risks a glance over his shoulder at Connor.

“What happened to your arm?” Connor asks, vaguely motioning in Evan’s direction.

Evan swallows and looks down at his cast. “Oh, I-I um…fell out of a tree. Actually.”  

Connor scoffs. “You fell out of a _tree_? That is just the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.” He snorts and shakes his head. “Oh my god.”

Evan forces a laugh as his stomach churn. It is sad. Really sad. Sadder than anyone will ever know. “I know,” he says weakly.

Connor clears his throat and motions to Evan’s cast again. “No one’s signed your cast yet.”

Evan takes a shallow breath. He hasn’t figured out what to tell his mom about that yet. Maybe he’ll lie and say he lost the Sharpie, even though then she’ll ask if no one else had one. Maybe he can say that they weren’t writing on the cast but then if she tests it— Evan shakes his head. “N-no, I know.”

“I’ll sign it.”

Evan looks up with a start. “Oh! Um…” His mouth goes dry and his hands are definitely getting sweaty and he has no idea what to do with this information. “Y-you don’t have to.”

Connor glares at him and Evan tries not to wilt too much under his gaze. “Do you have a Sharpie?”  

Evan stares at him for a second before he fumbles with his bag. It takes him a second to find it, and in that time, he’s pretty sure Connor has successfully taken a year off his life with that glare. He holds the Sharpie out.

Connor clenches his jaw before taking it. He grabs Evan’s arm and pulls it closer, making Evan wince in pain. “Ow,” he hisses. This is exactly what his mom meant when she said he should ask people to sign his cast.

“Oh. Sorry,” Connor mutters. He scrawls his name across Evan’s cast in large, capitalized letters and then lets go of Evan’s arm.

“Oh.” Evan tries not to sound as disappointed as he is about how it looks, but he’s pretty sure he fails miserably. “Great. Thanks.” There’s probably no way of hiding Connor’s name. Jared is going to have a field day.

Connor hands Evan the Sharpie back. Evan moves to put it back in his bag, but frowns when he feels something stuck under the clip the cap. He looks down to see a folded twenty dollar bill tucked under the clip. He frowns and glances over to at Connor. “W-what?”

“Pretend to be my friend.”

Evan blinks. “I— _what_?”

“Pretend to be my friend,” Connor repeats, more forcefully this time.

Evan pulls the twenty out from under the clip. “Y-you’re—”

“Paying you to be my fucking friend?” Connor interrupts. “Yeah. I am.”

“But…why?”

Connor scowls. “It gets my mom off my back, now will you do it or are you giving my money back?”

“Twenty dollars to-to pretend to be your friend,” Evan says in disbelief, unfolding the bill. “That’s—”

“Per week.”

Evan almost drops the money. “What?!”

“Twenty bucks a week. Just as long as I need you to do this.” Connor crosses his arms. “I am literally offering you money you to pretend to be my friend now _will you do it_.”

Evan smiles weakly. “That’s…the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. Oh my god.”

Connor rolls his eyes. “You’re hilarious. What’s your answer.”

Evan swallows. This could go very badly. But money… He knows his mom keeps lying about how they’re doing financially. Medicine and therapy is expensive. College is worse. Evan doesn’t have a job. There isn’t too much of a choice here.

Twenty dollars is a dinner or two when his mom isn’t home.

Pretend to be friends with Connor Murphy, who yells at people and skips class to smoke and pushes people and threw a printer in the second grade, for twenty dollars a week.

Evan closes his hand around the bill and then stuffs it into his pocket.

“I-I’ll do it.”

Connor holds out his hand and for a second, Evan thinks he’s going to take back the money and yell at him for being so pathetic that he’ll fake friendship for a measly twenty dollars, but then Connor says, “Give me the Sharpie.”

Evan hands him the Sharpie and Connor grabs his good arm. As Connor writes on his skin, the first thing Evan thinks is ‘ink poisoning’. Which is really just ridiculous, but he’s on edge.

“There,” Connor says, letting go of Evan’s arm and capping the Sharpie. “You have my number. And if you give it to anyone else, I’ll kill you.” The way he says it is so casual that Evan feels like he should be more scared by the threat than he is.

“G-got it,” Evan stutters. He glances over the numbers, hoping Connor will leave now. He needs time to process.

“Also—”

Life is never what Evan wants it to be.

“—Is this yours? I found it on the printer.” Evan feels his entire body go cold. “‘Dear Evan Hansen.’ That’s your name, right?”

If Evan wasn’t absolutely panicking right now, there might’ve been something funny about the fact that Connor paid someone he didn’t even know the name of to be his friend.

But it’s not funny.

“Oh, t-that’s just a stupid— it’s a paper I had to write for a, um, assignment…” Evan tugs on his shirt, because if he doesn’t do something with his hands, he’s going to try and grab it from Connor and there’s no way that can end except bad.

“‘Because there’s Zoe’,” Connor reads. The world tilts drastically, and everything slides toward destruction. “Is this about my _sister_?”

“No! Not at all!” Evan says quickly. It’s like he’s desperately trying to fix a fatal wound with Hello Kitty bandages. He’s drowning in his own worst fears and his mind is working against him and he can’t get any more words out to explain this situation because there’s no way to make this any better.

“You wrote this because you _knew_ that I would find it.”

“What?”

“You _saw_ that I was the only other person in the computer lab, so you wrote this and printed it out, so that I would find that.”

Evan almost starts laughing out of panic and a feeling of ‘oh god that sounds like something I would think’, but he’s so overwhelmed with everything that he can only get out a strangled, “Why—”

“So I would—”

“—would I do that?”

“—read some creepy shit you wrote about my sister, and freak out, right?” Connor snaps. “And then you can tell everyone that I’m crazy, _right_?” he yells.

“No. Wait— I don’t even, what?”

“ _Fuck you_ ,” Connor seethes. He stalks out of the room, the door to the computer lab slamming behind him.

He still has the letter.

“But I really, I need that back!” Evan shouts. “Please. Can you just— can you please give it back.” His voice goes quiet. There’s no way he’s getting that back.

He swallows hard as he turns back to his laptop. Looks like he’s printing out another copy, even though his mind is whirling all the ways this one could end in disaster too.

Evan makes his way over to the printer, legs shaking and knees wobbly as he waits for the page to print. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and locks his knees in an attempt to stop shaking and calm down even a fraction of a percent.

His fingers brush against the twenty dollar bill in his pocket.

It burns.

—«·»—

When Evan gets home, he scrubs his arm until his skin is red and irritated and Connor’s number has vanished.

Not that the numbers aren’t branded in his mind.

He writes them down on a sticky note and hides it deep within a book that he shoves to the back of his bookshelf. Doctor Sherman keeps telling him that if something is worrying him before bed, he should write it down so he doesn’t have to think about it as much. This is the first time Evan has tried.

He keeps thinking about Connor.

* * *

Connor isn’t in school the next day and Evan feels a strange sort of relief.

* * *

He isn’t in school the next day either. Evan tells himself that it’s probably a good thing. Maybe he can reach a point where this is all just a bad memory that he only remembers the vague feeling of.

He can’t convince himself.

Connor’s name is bold on his arm like a brand.

* * *

 

Evan tries to convince himself that it’s nothing when he gets called down to the principal’s office. No emergency of any kind. Maybe it’s something to do with paperwork. Maybe it’s actually a good thing, which seems a little far fetched, but it gets him through the hallways.

When he opens the door, the principal isn’t there. Just two people he doesn’t know, a man who turns to look at him with blank eyes and a woman who looks like she’s about to have a breakdown.

He swallows. “Good morning. Is Mr. Howard…?” he trails off as they give him confused looks. “I-I just— sorry, they said on the loudspeaker for me to go to the principal’s office…”

“Mr. Howard is, uh, he stepped outside,” the man explains.

“Oh.” Well that’s fine, Evan can just go find him then. Leave these two to the breakdown that he can see coming from the woman in almost slow motion because he’s been there before and he doesn’t want to be present—

“We wanted to speak with you in private,” the man says. Evan stares at him. “If you’d like to maybe…” He gestures to a chair.

Evan hesitates before he sits down. He frantically searches his mind, desperate to find some sort of memory of these two, to know if they have any connection to him at all whatsoever, if they’re supposed to be people he knows and remembers.

“We’re, uh…we’re Connor’s parents.”

“Oh.” Evan is back in the computer lab as Connor reads the letter, anxiety building and crushing him into pieces. This can’t be about that, Connor wouldn’t have told his parents about it, his parents wouldn’t come to school and call him out of class because of it, it doesn’t make sense it doesn’t make sense it doesn’t make—

The woman pulls a folded piece of paper out of her purse, holding it carefully.

Evan stares at it. There’s no way…

“Why don’t you go ahead, honey, and…?”

“I’m going as fast as I can,” the woman says, her voice trembling. It sounds like she’s about to burst into tears.  

Evan grips the arms of the chair.

“That’s not what I said, is it?” the man asks sharply.

The silence weighs down on Evan like an anchor. Or like his anxiety. Everything feels like anxiety, the air, the silence, the room…

Connor’s mother holds the paper out to Evan. “This is… Connor…he wants you to have this.” Her voice is shaking more now and Evan wants to be anywhere else.

Evan takes the paper. He wants to rip it up into shreds, set it on fire, and flush the ashes down the toilet.

“We didn’t,” the man starts, “we’d never heard your name before, Connor never…but then we saw… ‘Dear Evan Hansen’.”

Evan resists the urge to crumple the letter up in his hands. “He, um, he gave this to you?” he asks carefully. He still doesn’t understand. How could one pathetic letter bring the Murphys here?

“We didn’t know that you two were friends.”

Evan inhales sharply. “F-friends?”

“We didn’t think that Connor had _any_ friends,” the man continues. “And then we see this note and it’s— this seems to suggest pretty clearly that you and Connor are, or at least for Connor, he thinks of you as…” He points to the letter, struggling through his words. “I mean, it’s right there. ‘Dear Evan Hansen’. It’s addressed to you. He wrote it to you.”

Oh. Oh no. _Oh no_. “You think this is— you think that Connor wrote this to me.”

The woman nods. “These are the words he wanted to share with you.”

“He wanted them to be his last words,” the man adds.

Whatever Evan wanted to say vanishes from his mind. “I-I’m sorry. What do you mean, last words?”

Connor’s parents exchange a glance.

Evan doesn’t need them to say it outloud. He already knows.

“Connor, uh, Connor tried to take his own life,” the man says slowly. “He’s in the hospital right now.”

“He…what?” Evan knows. He knows he knows he knows _he knows_ but the words aren’t processing and everything is turning to static.

“This is all we found with him. He had it folded up in his pocket.” Evan scrambles for words, for anything that will stop this. “You can see that he’s… He probably wanted to explain it, why he tried to…” Evan shakes his head, but Connor’s father keeps going and Evan feels sick. “‘I wish that everything was different. I wish that I were part of something. I wish that what I said mattered to anyone.’”

“Please stop it, Larry,” Connor’s mother interrupts.

Evan wipes his palms on his pants. This is bad this is so bad. “But, that’s, this isn’t—” Those are his words. His. Connor never would’ve wanted— ”I’m sorry. Connor, um, Connor d-didn’t write this.”

“What does that mean?” Cynthia asks, voice on the edge of hysterical.

“Connor didn’t— he didn’t write this,” Evan stutters. He doesn’t know how much clearer he can get, but Connor — their _son_ — tried to commit suicide and here he is telling them that what they think isn’t true because really, it would be just like Evan to become the villain in a story he didn’t even realize he was a part of.

“What does he mean?” Cynthia repeats, louder as she grabs her husband’s hand.

“He’s obviously in shock,” Larry says in such a matter-of-fact way that part of Evan almost believes him.

“N-no,” Evan protests. “I just, he didn’t—”

“It’s right here!” Cynthia points at the letter aggressively.

Evan can’t do this. He can’t breathe. “I-I’m sorry, but I should probably just— can I please go now?”

“If this isn’t— if Connor didn’t write this, then—”

“Cynthia,” Larry says sharply. “Please. Calm down.”

Evan grabs for his backpack. “I should go now.”

“But did he say anything to you?” Cynthia asks desperately. “Did you see anything—?”

“I really should go,” Evan interrupts. Because she’s grasping at straws and trying to understand and she can’t and won’t and he doesn’t want to be here for that.

“Cynthia, honey this is not the time.”

“This is all we have!” she wails. “Conor won’t tell us, he’ll never tell us!”

“Honey. Listen to me. Please.” Larry puts a hand over Cynthia’s. She pulls away and buries her face in her hands, sobbing.

Evan needs to leave.

“Cynthia.”

Evan holds out the letter, hand shaking. “You should just— you should take it. Please.” He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he keeps it. He doesn’t want to be near it anymore.

Cynthia looks up at him, cheeks tearstained and eyes overflowing, and gasps. “Larry, look!” She points to Evan’s arm. “His cast.”

Connor’s name.

Evan glances down at his cast. He’d forgotten, somehow, amidst all of this, he had _forgotten_ — 

Twenty dollars.

For as long as Connor needed him to be his friend.

“His best and most dearest friend,” Cynthia recites.

The ground opens up and swallows Evan whole.

—«·»—

They try to get him to go to the hospital. Try to get him to visit Connor. He keeps shaking his head and tripping over his words.

He can’t.

He can’t be there and see Connor in a hospital bed and _pretend_ . He can’t keep that up. He can’t keep _this_ up.

He feels like he’s going to be sick.

Eventually Larry got it. “He’s processing,” he had said to Cynthia.

Cynthia grabbed Evan’s hand and said, “He should be out in a day or two. But you can visit him whenever you’re ready.” And she’d smiled.

And Evan had smiled back.

Because he’s a liar.

—«·»—

When Evan gets home, he tears apart his bookshelf until he finds the book he hid the sticky note in. He pulls it out of the book and stares at it, the numbers swimming before his eyes. He’s managed not to have a panic attack yet but— 

He puts the sticky note on the his laptop and finds the twenty he had stuffed in a drawer.

It’s just a bill. There are millions like it. It’s _just_ a twenty dollar bill.

Evan swallows back bile.

He feels gross. Bad. Anxious (that’s not new). Uncomfortable.

He scratches his cast. If only this were off his arm. If only he hadn’t let Connor sign it. If only he hadn’t fallen out of that tree. If only he had.

If only he’d been higher.

His phone rings loudly from where it’s sitting on his bed and snaps him out of his trance. He doesn’t know how long he just stood there, staring at a bill, but he feels weirdly out of place now that he realizes he hasn’t moved for what was probably a strangely long period of time. Now he’s too aware of himself and his body.

It’s just a text from Jared, asking about something for class. Jared doesn’t text unless it’s related to schoolwork.

Evan puts the money down on his desk.

How the hell does he do this?

* * *

Evan doesn’t know what standard protocol for these types of things is, but he doesn’t really know what to do with himself when he sees Connor in the halls eight days later.

His first thought is ‘he’s back?’

His second thought is ‘oh no he’s back.’

Evan has been avoiding Zoe for eight days. He takes alternate routes when he sees her in the hallways, he doesn’t pass her locker if he can help it. They made eye contact once and he felt his insides shrivel up. He doesn’t know if her parents told her about the letter, he doesn’t know if they questioned Connor about it, he doesn’t know _anything_. He just doesn’t want to be a piece in some game that they’re playing.  

It’s a bad day.

He gets through a class and a half before he stumbles into the bathroom, hands shaking and breaths shallow.

Evan doesn’t like confrontation. It makes him feel nauseous and dizzy and there’s no way this can end _without_ confrontation.

He doesn’t know if he’s going to make it through the rest of the day.

—«·»—

Evan makes it through the rest of the day. Barely. The ‘barely’ is important. He didn’t pay much attention and when he did, he didn’t retain much of the information, but he didn’t have a meltdown in class and for now that has to be good enough.

He goes to the computer lab to print his letter for the day because it’s normal and part of his schedule. And because he’s still pretending he can do this assignment. That he can pretend that everything is okay when nothing is okay at all. That he can find some optimism in a world that’s permanently gray.

Connor Murphy is sitting at one of the computers.

He has his feet kicked up on the table and his hood pulled down over his eyes.

Evan decides the best thing to do is leave. He can print the letter tomorrow. Change his schedule to do it before school. Be anywhere other than _here_.

Connor sits up as soon as he turns to leave.

“Evan, right?” Connor asks, tugging on his hoody.

“Y-yeah.” Evan grips the straps of his backpack. He needs to ground himself. Somehow.

Connor sighs. “Sorry about…” He gestures vaguely with a hand. “My parents. I heard they jumped you.”

“Not ex-exactly,” Evan mumbles. He’s trying to form an exit strategy but his mind isn’t working right.

“Yeah well Larry is a piece of shit and my mom hasn’t really stopped crying in days.” Connor pulls his legs down and stands up from the chair and oh god Evan forgot how _tall_ he was. “Good job getting out of visiting. It was the fucking worst.”

Evan glances at the ground. He sees Connor’s name on his cast out of the corner of his eye. He tightens his grip on his backpack. “W-was it planned?”

Connor shrugs. “This is like the fourth time I’ve tried, why does it fucking matter anymore?”

Evan grits his teeth. “Was it planned?”

Connor scoffs. “Why do you _care_?”

Evan looks up at him. “B-because you paid me!” He lifts his cast toward Connor. “You signed this cast and made it look like we were—”

“Oh my god,” Connor murmurs.

“What was I supposed to do?!” Because that’s the question. What did Connor _want from him_?! Why him?

Connor tore at his hair. “Are you fucking _serious_ —”

“What was I supposed to do if you _died_?” Evan interrupts. “What then? Y-your family already thinks we’re best friends—”

“I can’t believe I tried to _kill myself_ and you—”

“— Was I just supposed to lie?! Lie about being best friends with the dead kid? Was that your plan, Connor?!”

“Oh _fuck off!_ ” Connor shouts.

Evan shakes his head. His mind is spinning and there are all these possibilities and he feels like he’s going to fall over. “Because it sure feels like you were using me and I know what it’s like to— I know what it feels like and I’ve been there but I never thought ‘oh man I should drag this other person down with me’, I just jumped out of a fucking tree!”

Evan breathes heavily as Connor stares at him, eyes wide.

“…you what?” Connor asks. There’s no anger in his voice, just—

Evan reruns his last words in his mind.

 _Oh no_.

“N-no no I-I just meant—” Evan holds his hands out in front of him and shakes his head. “I di-didn’t—” He steps backward and stumbles over himself. “I-I need— I have to go.”

He twists around, tripping as he runs out of the computer lab, slamming his shoulder against the door to open it as he flees.

He thinks Connor might call after him.

He doesn’t care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> evan feels very out of character and so does connor and i am so sorry please don't let me write. also i swear the next chapter will be more interesting probably maybe please don't expect good things from me
> 
>  
> 
> **summary:**
> 
>  
> 
> computer lab scene: evan is printing his letter. connor comes in and offers to sign evan's cast. after he does that, he offers evan $20 a week to pretend to be his friend. evan accepts and gets connor's phone number. connor has evan's letter and reads some of it, getting angry and storming out with it.
> 
> principal's office scene: larry and cynthia have evan called down to the principal's office. they think evan and connor were friends because of the letter (a la the musical) and tell evan connor tried to commit suicide and is in the hospital. they try to get him to visit connor but evan refuses.
> 
> after: when connor comes back to school, he finds evan in the computer lab. he apologizes for his parents and evan asks if connor's suicide was planned. they both get upset, evan because he feels like connor tried to use him and connor because evan's accusing him of this, and evan tells connor he jumped out of a tree. evan runs out of the room before connor can say anything else


	2. $40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor thinks a lot and him and Evan talk a lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we are again. hope everyone had a good october, mine was....something. sorry if the writing style/tone changes a bit throughout, i basically wrote this in two sittings, just two sittings with a month between them
> 
> im doing nanowrimo but instead of working on my novel i wrote the rest of this chapter cause.................i like pain. i also really like the idea of abandoned playgrounds and that miiight say a lot about me as a person but its like. really aesthetic or something
> 
>  **warning:** discussions of mental health, mentions of suicide/suicide attempts, suicidal thoughts, let me know if other warnings need to be added
> 
> enjoy!

Connor is starting to run out of places in town where he can be alone without someone in his family finding him. Zoe is a little too perceptive and his mother has eyes  _ everywhere _ . It’s kind of creepy and Connor’s sick of it. 

Still, they’ve yet to find him at the old elementary school playground so far. Maybe it’s because the playground is hidden behind the school and is surrounded on two sides by tall trees. Or just because it’s in the rundown part of town, abandoned until the town can think of something better to do with a building almost as old as the town itself. 

Connor is pretty sure people have broken into the school before. There are definitely serious drug deals that take place under the biggest tree on the edge of the fields. But mostly it’s just empty. 

Connor’s been here before to smoke. Yeah, he’s been the creepy teenager smoking on the swingset at three in the morning before. Who the fuck cares, no one comes by here to get him in trouble. But more often then not, he just comes here to think. 

He sits on a swing and holds onto the rusting chains and just stares at his knees and thinks. Or dissociates. Or both. He can’t tell anymore.

It’s been a fucking  _ day _ . He definitely hadn’t planned getting yelled at by Evan Hansen into his schedule. 

For one, he didn’t think Evan had it in him. For another… Connor doesn’t actually know what he’d been expecting when he sat down in the computer lab instead of going to last period. Maybe that one thing in his life would be easy. He could apologize to Evan or something and they could maybe slowly make it seem like they were drifting apart or something. 

Connor doesn’t know how friends work. It’s been years since he had a real one. 

And Evan isn’t even a real one.

He walks the swing in circles, twisting the chains together until he can’t twist anymore, then lifts his feet from the ground. He lets his toes drag along the ground as he spins in slow circles, the chains groaning as they untwist. 

He can still hear Evan’s voice in his mind, shouting at him. 

_ I just jumped out of a fucking tree! _

He tried to backtrack so quickly. Take back the truth he’d released to the world. But Connor saw it. There had been a moment of clarity. 

That was Evan Hansen. 

That singular moment of honesty says more about Evan Hansen more than he will ever say about himself. He’s awkward, anxious to a fault, and suicidal. He looks at the world and he doesn’t see a future. He sees in grays and muddled tones and doesn’t see something worth fighting for. 

Or maybe that’s just Connor projecting. 

The swing dips a little as it stops untwisting, moving back and forth with the remaining momentum. Sometimes, sitting on these swings, he feels like a little kid. Mostly he just feels out of place. 

But it’s better than home. Home, where he has no bedroom door. Home, where his mom is desperate for him to get better but doesn’t know how to help. Home, where his father doesn’t want to face the facts or him. Home, where his sister has given up. 

Home, which is a building and not much more. 

Connor closes his eyes and rests his head against the old chain. Childhood doesn’t feel real anymore. It’s hard to believe he was a little kid. That he was happy. That he constantly didn’t feel like shit. 

His entire life has been overshadowed and stained by his present. He wishes he’d been able to wipe it out— that he’d been able to wipe  _ him _ out. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket. Only twice. A text. 

His mother only calls. She leaves frantic voicemails and voicemails with forced cheer. Nothing else. 

No one else contacts him. 

Connor sighs and opens his eyes. The sky is starting to get dark already. As it gets closer to winter, night comes faster and god he can’t wait for the darkness to just swallow him whole. 

Dramatic depressing stuff like that. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket again. He leans away from the chain to pull his phone from his pocket. He squints at the overly bright screen as his eyes adjust. 

**From: (522) 114-8119** **  
****To: Connor  
**      Im s o soryr I shoulnd t have  yelled a t you or said thos e things  
     And IM s orry that I ran out and tha t happend a dn 

Connor stares at the screen. A few moments later, he gets another text. 

**From: (522) 114-8119** **  
****To: Connor  
**      Cna  we talk tomorro w  
     After sc hool computer lba  
     IMs or y I can ttype righ tnow 

Connor hesitates, fingers hovering over the screen. Part of him forgot he gave Evan his number. Part of him thought Evan would never try to contact him ever again. 

**From: Connor** **  
****To: (522) 144-8119** **  
**      its fine   
     and ok   
     ill see you there

—«·»—  


Connor slams the front door to announce that he’s home. He doesn’t bother actually using his voice, he’s tired and ready to just lay in bed and stop existing for a while. 

“Don’t slam the door,” his father says from where he’s sitting on the couch, reading a newspaper. 

Connor rolls his eyes. There are only so many doors he can slam in this house nowadays. He’s going to take advantage of what he can get. 

His mom leans out from the kitchen, a smile plastered onto her face. She looks tired, even though she’s trying not to. Connor knows better. As the cause of most of her stress and frustration, he absolutely knows better. “How was your first day back, sweetie?” she asks. And she’s trying to be so excited for him. 

Cynthia Murphy is attempting to hold her household together with pure faked optimism alone. She is the only positive force in the family, but it’s wrong and plastic. 

Connor shrugs and makes his way toward the stairs. 

“Answer your mother,” Larry says. Sort of mutters, sort of uninterested sounding, sort of irritating. 

Connor stops on the bottom stair with his hand on the railing and turns to look at his mom. “It was whatever.” 

“Is that all?” She twists a dishrag in her hands. 

He sighs. She probably deserves more than that. “It was boring. Missed a lot. I’ve got homework. Probably going to fail out of math. Lunch is still shit—”

“Language,” Larry mutters. 

“And the guidance counselor only talked to me for seventeen minutes this time.” Connor glances to his mom. “So yeah. It was okay.” 

Cynthia smiles again, a little less forced. “I’m glad. I’ll call you for dinner, see what you can get done, okay?” 

Connor nods. 

He’d rather not deal with dinner. 

—«·»—  


“How’s Evan?” is this first question Cynthia asks when Connor sits down for dinner and puts half a spoonful of tonight’s vegetable of the day on his plate. 

“He’s fine,” Connor mutters. He needs to end this conversation as fast as humanly possible. 

“That’s wonderful, he seems like a nice boy.” 

Larry hums in agreement and Connor tries not to grimace. Zoe just looks bored. 

“He’s…cool.” Maybe vague compliments will work until his mom gets tired of this line of questioning. 

“You’ve never told us about Evan,” she muses. “You aren’t even friends on Facebook!”

Connor’s brain goes into panic mode because oh  _ shit.  _ Of course Cynthia checked Facebook, that’s possibly one of the most predictable things she’s ever done. Which—  _ fuck _ , Connor definitely should’ve seen this coming. 

“People don’t use Facebook anymore, Mom,” Zoe says flatly, staring down at her plate. 

Connor glances at her and then does a double take, gesturing to her. “That.” 

Cynthia purses her lips. “I still use it.” 

Zoe flicks her gaze to Connor before looking back to their mom. “You know what I mean.”

“I can ask him if he has one if you want me to,” Connor says, because if this conversation doesn’t end he’s going to come up with some sort of escape plan and he does not have a good track record with those. 

Cynthia smiles and, god, does Connor feel guilty. This better be worth it in the long run.

* * *

Connor goes to school like he doesn’t have to drag himself out of bed and force himself into the car. He pretends he doesn’t hate Zoe’s music choices or notice that she stops more suddenly than she has to. He just grits his teeth and focuses on the cookie cutter houses they’re passing. 

He hates the suburbs. 

“I have rehearsal today,” Zoe says when she parks the car. “Figure out how to get home or wait.” 

Connor rolls his eyes and slams the door harder than he knows he has to. “I’ll walk,” he grumbles.

The thing about high school is that it’s boringly and horribly constant. It’s also just fucking awful, but it’s mind numbing and dull. Even if Connor actually tried, and he can’t exactly remember the last time he did, he would not be having a good time.

He’s pretty sure the only people who have a good time in high school are the people whose lives will only go downhill from here and the people who are fucking lying to themselves. 

The bells are piercing and make him grimace and the awful rotating yet standard schedule is one of the worst things to ever happen to him. He hates seeing the same people in the same space every single day. He can hear Alana Beck talking his ear off about the factory system and how the American education system creates people who follows rules more than anything else as she conformed to the system and followed all the rules back when they were sophomores in a boring, standard english class that left Connor feeling tired and bored. 

He stalks down the hallway, glaring whenever anyone gets too close. One of the few perks of being known as the kid who may actually try to kill someone. People leave him the fuck alone.

The last time he really did homework was the end of sophomore year. All he has to do is not fail. And that doesn’t require doing homework. 

If Connor tried, he could probably be a half decent student. But Zoe tries hard enough for the both of them and he would rather just get high. 

At this point, his biggest problem in school is staying conscious through the whole thing. 

He spends lunch in the library, hiding in a back corner where no one ever goes and pulls a random book off the shelves and reads about someone he’s never heard of until the bell rings and he forces himself to go back to a class that makes his eyes glaze over as people discuss readings that he absolutely did not do. 

Connor finds himself getting almost anxious as the end of the day nears. He’s not sure why, sure Evan wants to talk, but it can’t be that bad. Evan holds the cards at the moment, but they’re both in this mess together. The worst Connor can think of is Evan bringing Kleinman and Kleinman being…himself. 

Connor stalls in his last class for a few minutes while everyone clears out. His teacher ignores him to talk to a student that actually tries and once the hallways have cleared a bit, Connor gets up and takes the long way to the computer lab. 

The long way is away from the school entrance, meaning the hallways are almost empty aside from a few laggers. No one wants to spend any more time in this hellhole than necessary. With it’s annoying posters and rows and rows of never ending lockers that no one ever uses. They’re pointless, just there for show and storing things kids aren’t supposed to have on school grounds. 

When Connor pushes open the door to the computer lab, Evan Hansen is awkwardly standing in the middle of the room, gripping the straps of his backpack in his hands. 

Connor raises his eyebrows at him. “Hey.” 

Evan takes a shaky breath. “H-hi.” 

“So.” Connor drops his back on the floor and kicks it closer to one of the tables. “You wanted to talk.” 

“I-I wanted to apologize,” Evan says quickly, “for yesterday because I didn’t mean to— I shouldn’t have assumed or, like, implied that you were, I mean, that you wanted to—” He shakes his head. “That you were. Using me? That was— I was…confused by— confused because of, of the timing but that doesn’t mean it was…okay.” 

Connor crosses his arms. “Yeah, well, if I kill myself it’s not going to be fucking performance art.” 

Evan winces. 

“If my family is going to mourn something they’re going to mourn actual me, not the me some stranger makes up because my mom thinks we’re buddies or something even though we aren’t even friends on Facebook.” 

Evan frowns. “F-facebook?” 

Connor waves a hand. “Never mind. The point is, I was using you. Just not…like that. I am using you. Currently. Present tense. If…you’re still in?” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out another twenty dollar bill. He holds it out to Evan. 

Evan stares at it. “Y-you still want to…to do this?” 

“I have three choices,” Connor says. “One: we keep doing this and then slowly break it off. Two: we fake a big fight and never speak to each other ever again. Or three: I tell my parents it was a lie. Haven’t thought that one through yet.” 

Evan chews on his bottom lip. “Okay.” 

Connor raises an eyebrow. “You’re in?” 

Evan nods. 

“Good.” He walks over to Evan and shoves the money into his hand. He yanks his hand away and shoves it in his pocket before Evan can tell it’s shaking.

“W-why—?” 

“It’s been a week,” Connor explains. “There’s your twenty. We agreed to that.” 

Evan stares at the bill in the palm of his hand. “Um…right. Right. Do we,” he glances up at Connor, “are there…other rules? Or like? A plan or are we just…?”

“Winging it?” Connor suggests.

Evan makes a face. “Let’s— can we not do that? That sounds like a bad idea.” 

“Okay fine. Rule number one, we don’t tell anyone else about this.” Connor gestures between the two of them. “If no one else knows, it’s easier to keep it a secret.” 

Evan grimaces. “J-Jared will know.” 

“What?” 

“He— Jared can always tell when I’m lying, he’s-he’s really good at it. It’s…kind of scary, actually.” 

Connor scowls. “Seriously? Are you that bad a liar?” 

Evan shakes his head quickly. “We’ve just known each other— it’s been so long he can just…tell.” 

Connor sighs. “Okay then. Can we trust Jared?” 

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“We’re fucked.” 

“I-I think…” Evan trails off. 

“You think what?” Connor prompts. 

Evan takes a breath. “I think…if we tell him an-and explain everything, we have a better chance of him keeping it a secret. Because then he— he’s included in it or something? Since he’ll figure it out anyway it might just be best to…to tell him right away.” 

If someone has to know, Connor would not have chosen Jared Kleinman to be that person. But if he has to do it… 

“Whatever,” Connor decides. “We swear him to secrecy and threaten to hurt him if he tells anyone.” 

Evan tugs on his shirt. “Um…yeah th-that— okay.” 

Connor rolls his eyes. “I won’t actually hurt him.” 

“I knew that,” Evan mutters. 

“We can come up with other rules on the fly,” Connor offers. 

Evan opens his mouth and then closes it quickly.

“What?” 

“I…” He shakes his head. “It’s nothing.” 

Connor groans. “It’s not nothing! Just tell me!” 

“I don’t know anything about you!” Evan bursts out. “H-how do we—? We’re supposed to be best friends? How long have we been friends? What do we do when we hang out? What if people ask us questions?!” 

Those are good points that Connor hadn’t considered because he’s been doing this on impulse. Obviously, Evan has thought this through a bit more. Connor runs a hand through his hair. “Are you free right now?” 

“N-not right now,” Evan stutters. “Later tonight?” 

“You still have my phone number?” Connor asks instead. 

Evan nods. 

“Text me when you’re free, we can figure stuff out then.” Connor moves to leave. “If…you’re cool with that?” 

“Fine!” Evan says quickly. 

Connor eyes him before shrugging and turning away. “Okay. I’ll see you later then.” 

“Yeah…s-see you”

—«·»—  


Connor walks home from school, because Zoe is at rehearsal for another hour and he’s a.) not hanging around school for that long and b.) not spending more time in the car with her than necessary. It takes a while and his mom is still somehow worried about him crossing a highway, but he doesn’t care. The walk is strangely nice. Kind of calming and gives him some time to think. Mostly about Evan Hansen. 

Knowing his mother, they’re going to need a hell of a backstory. She likes to dig until she hits rock bottom. And then she pulls out a pick ax and starts swinging.

“I’m home!” he shouts as he throws open the front door. He closes it and waits for the usual “how was school, honey?” to come from the kitchen before he starts making his way up the stairs. 

“It was fine,” he answers. “Doing homework.” 

Connor didn’t think either of them believed that, but whatever. He threw his bag onto the floor and kicked off his shoes before flopping onto the bed. 

Now he just has to wait for Evan. 

—«·»—

Connor wakes up with a jerk when his phone starts buzzing repeatedly. He rolls onto his back and pulls his phone out of his pocket, squinting at the screen as his heart tries to calm down. 

**From: (522) 114-8119  
** **To: Connor  
**      Im hom e   
     Sorry if htis is a bad item for you 

Connor changes the contact name from the number to Evan’s name before he responds. 

**From: Connor** **  
****To: Evan** **  
**      its fine im not doing anything   
     can i come over yours?

Connor glances around his room, eyes settling on the doorframe. They definitely can’t do this here. He hopes Evan is cool with them sitting in an abandoned playground if all else fails.    


**From: Evan** **  
****To: Connor** **  
**      Thats fine!!!   
     You need my address don t you that would probably be helplfu

He keeps laying in bed until Evan’s sent the address and Connor has found it on Google Maps. He can walk, it’s not too bad. 

The world spins a little bit when he stands up from his bed, swaying and darkening as the blood rushes from his head. 

Connor stumbles out of his room and down the stairs, figuring he probably doesn’t need to bring anything with him to Evan’s. All they’re going to do is talk. 

He glances at the time. Hopefully his mom doesn’t care if he skips dinner tonight. 

Connor takes a pit stop in the kitchen and steals an apple from the bowl on the island on his way to the front door. 

“Dinner is soon,” Zoe says pointedly from where she’s leaning against the counters.

Connor ignores her. “I’m going over Evan’s,” he says to Cynthia. 

She looks up from the frying pan in surprise. “You are?” 

He shrugs and takes a bite of the apple. “Yeah we’re going to…” he should’ve thought of an excuse earlier, “play a video game. Or something.”

Cynthia claps her hands together. “That’s great! Have fun and let me know when you get there and when you’re on your way back, okay?” She presses a kiss to Connor’s cheek. “And make sure you eat!” 

“I will,” Connor mumbles. 

“You don’t even know him,” Zoe mutters. 

Fuck. He should’ve known Zoe backing him up last night was an outlier. Connor glares at her and flips her off. 

“Zoe, be nice,” Cynthia says firmly. “Text me when you get there, Connor.” 

He nods and leaves before Zoe can make any more commentary. He can only hope she doesn’t press it while he isn’t there. 

Connor eats his apple as he follows the directions on his phone. Evan’s house isn’t too far, but it’s already starting to get darker and this town is shit, so the streets aren’t exactly well lit.

He stands on a street corner and watches a truck go by with complete disregard for a stop sign before he crosses the street and turns onto Evan’s road. 

Connor pauses outside the house that matches the number and description Evan gave. He sends a quick text as he walks up the walkway to the front door. 

**From: Connor** **  
****To: Evan** **  
**      outside what i think is your house   
     gonna knock

Connor knocks once before the door swings open. He blinks in surprise as Evan stares at him. 

Connor clears his throat. “Hey…can I come in?” 

Evan steps out of the way. “Y-yeah of course you can— just. Yeah, take off your shoes here that’s… You can do that.” 

Connor steps inside and takes off his boots as Evan closes and locks the door. “Parents home?” he asks. 

Evan shakes his head. “No my mom’s— she’s working late tonight. Long night.” 

“Dad?” Connor asks absentmindedly as he drops his boots by Evan’s shoes. 

He looks up when Evan doesn’t answer. 

Evan is staring at the floor with his eyebrows furrowed, picking at his cast. 

“Oh shit, I didn’t mean—” 

“I-it’s fine,” Evan interrupts. “He’s not here. It’s just— just me and my mom.” Evan gestures down the hallway. “Let’s just— follow me.” 

He leads Connor into a kitchen, smaller and older than the one in the Murphy household. There’s a twenty dollar bill sitting on the table and a pile of dirty dishes in the sink. 

“I-I don’t have any—” Evan shakes his head. “I have money to order pizza if…you want.” 

“Maybe in a bit.” Connor leans against the counter. “I uh…never apologized for taking that letter, did I?” 

Evan laughs awkwardly. “N-not real— I mean it’s fine! It’s fine it’s, it’s not a big deal it’s just…” 

“What?” Connor asks slowly. “What was it?” 

Evan takes a deep breath and tugs on the hem of his shirt. “I-it was an assignment for— for therapy.”   

Connor raises his eyebrows. “You go to therapy?” 

“Yeah? I, um, I have… severe anxiety?” Evan gestures to himself. “And depression but that’s kind of— to a lesser extent usually? But yeah. It’s um…the letter— it’s supposed to make me more positive about my day? Uh, dear Evan Hansen, today’s going t-to be a good day and here’s why…” He trails off and glances to the sink. 

Connor hesitates before he says his next thought. “My parents… They thought it was a my suicide note.”  

Evan closes his eyes tightly and opens them. “Uh yeah well, I-I mean it’s…it’s  _ supposed _ to be a positive thing but it’s— it’s almost never a good day? In fact it’s usually a very bad day and the first day of school was a— it wasn’t…There wasn’t much positive in it. And Zoe, I— The letter was— It wasn’t meant for you it was for this assignment. And Zoe is— after you, you know.” Evan gestures to Connor and Connor tries not to grimace. 

“Zoe saw me and-and she talked to me and she’s— Ihavethisreallysillycrushonher which is silly because I don’t even know her! The letter says I don’t even know her cause I don’t, she’s just— she’s a girl who’s pretty and nice and she smiles a lot and she doesn’t seem bothered by anything.” Connor raises his eyebrows. “She seems to have herself figured out and that’s— she’s just a girl I see sometimes and I guess that’s—” 

Evan ducks his head. “She saw me and she helped me up. That doesn’t happen. Not— not to me.” 

Connor looks away. There are a lot of things to process in that and his mind doesn’t want to process any of them. His eyes land on the money on the table. 

“What kind of pizza do you like?” Connor asks. 

“W-what?” 

Connor steps forward and picks up the bill. “Pizza,” he repeats. “What do you want? I’ll make the call.” 

Evan blinks a few times. “Uh…cheese is fine?” 

“Cool.” He pulls out his phone. “Let’s see how much food we can get for twenty bucks.” 

Evan gives him a weak smile. “O-okay.” 

Connor paces around the kitchen as he places the order at the pizza place. There are places in town where you can order online, but their sauce isn’t as good and their breadsticks are shitty. Once he’s hung up, he sits down at the table and gestures for Evan to do the same. 

“You wanted to figure things out, right?” Connor asks, tapping his fingers on the table. 

Evan nods. 

“Let’s do this then.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow communication. also watch me struggle to write the murphy siblings because i only ever write them when they've improved their relationship
> 
> i'm having a good time though, really feel connor avoiding responding to that conversation by buying pizza
> 
> (sorry about that little rant about the american education system? it was 3 am and i hated high school with all of my soul)


	3. $60

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan and Connor pretend at school, but an invitation makes things harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember when i said i was doing nano? yeah so one day out of frustration i changed my nano novel to this so. *jazz hands*
> 
> side note: their town/school is ENTIRELY based on my own. i straight up just dropped them into my high school. therefore there is quite a bit of complaining but mostly thats about cafeteria food being shit and we all know it really is
> 
> ask any of my friends and you will learn i took this shit waaaay too far and made it way too complicated. you will never know how. this chapter is long as hell, i am so sorry but i still hope you enjoy!
> 
>  **warnings:** discussions of mental health, anxiety, anxiety/panic attack, mentions of suicide/suicidal thoughts

Connor meets Evan by Evan’s locker. It was easier to find than Connor’s, who couldn’t even tell Evan the number when asked, and more secluded than most. Slipped into what people not so fondly called the “secret hallway” near the library, Evan’s locker is one of the few in this section of the school and he’s one of the few students who even uses his locker. He only uses it because he has so many textbooks, and because it’s sometimes nice to step away from the more crowded parts of the school. If he had to guess, he’d probably say that less than a third of kids in the school use their lockers. 

Why spend time putting your books away when you only have five minutes to get to class? Time better spent pushing through the hallways or making out with a significant other in a corner or eating a snack really quickly because your next teacher has a strict no food policy and once taped a banana to the whiteboard when someone tried to eat it in class. 

The hallway has a strange assortment of classrooms. A lost english room, with its windows covered in posters and playbills and pictures and quotes, multiple rooms for computer and technology classes, and the math room of the one teacher that everyone dreads because he is too smart to be teaching high school. Evan had had him sophomore year for geometry and even though Alana Beck had somehow gotten him through it, his hands still sweat when he thinks about going back there.

He’s unlocking his locker when Connor appears next to him, seemingly out of nowhere. Evan almost drops the english book he’s holding and has to start his combination over after messing up. 

“You lock your locker?” Connor asks, raising an eyebrow.

Evan huffs as he resets the lock. “Y-yeah. Just…better to be safe. I don’t know.” 

“New question.” Connor leans against the locker next to Evan’s. “You  _ use  _ your locker?” 

Evan rolls his eyes. “You already judged me for this.” 

“That I did,” Connor agrees. “I’m not done judging you though. Fuck lockers, who needs them?” 

“M-me?” 

Connor scoffs. “Sure. Suffer with the rest of us, Hansen. We’re supposed to leave high school with fucked up backs.” 

Evan puts away his textbook before he turns to look at Connor. “Do you even carry books around?” 

Connor whistles lowly. “You’ve got a bite this morning.” 

Evan shakes his head and puts his backpack on the ground, pulling out a binder he won’t need until after lunch and putting it on the floor of his locker. 

“And you’ve caught me,” Connor admits. “I’m never prepared for class.” He flicks a bill into Evan’s locker. It lands on Evan’s binder and Evan stuffs it into his pocket quickly. He shoots a glare at Connor. It’d be nice if Connor were a  _ little _ more discreet. 

The two of them had straightened out their stories the other day at Evan’s. Connor had decided Mondays would be the best day for him to pay Evan because it would force him to show up to school for at least the beginning of the week and it would be harder to forget Mondays. They also established when they started talking, basic likes and dislikes about the other, and the fact that the way that Connor eats pizza is weird. Who starts with the crust? 

Connor only stayed a few hours and then walked back home in the dark (Evan definitely didn’t make him text him when he got home to say he was safe) but somehow those few hours made Evan feel infinitely more comfortable around Connor Murphy. Probably a good thing because they’re playing at being best friends. 

Evan has gotten enough weird looks and questions about the ‘Connor’ scrawled across his cast without the two of them being awkward and uncomfortable around each other. 

They just have to fool…everyone. 

Easy enough. 

“You good?” Connor asks. 

Evan glances up at him. “Yeah I’m— it’s all good.” He grabs a random book and shuts his locker. He glances at the textbook as he pulls his backpack on his shoulders. AP Environmental Science. He doesn’t have that class until the end of the day, but now he’s stuck carrying it around until he gets another chance to stop at his locker because there is no way in hell he’s opening his locker after just shutting it. 

“Where are you headed?” Connor asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets. 

“English.” Evan gestures toward the stairwell. “So I’m— I’ll go this way. You?” 

Connor scrunches up his nose. “Chorus. But I’ll come with you, I have to go down anyway.” He pulls open the door to the stairwell for Evan.

“You s-sing?” Evan asks as he passes Connor. 

Connor laughs. His voice echoes in the stairwell. “Fuck no. But I needed an arts class and this was as lazy as I could get. I sit in the back and don’t pay attention.” 

“What are you?” Evan moves closer to the railing as two kids rush past them up the stairs. 

“Uh…human?” 

Evan frowns and looks back at Connor. “What? No that’s— I meant vocal part.” 

Connor blinks. “Oh. Tenor, I think. I just move my mouth and pretend.” 

Evan shakes his head and opens the door at the bottom of the stairs. “You know that people can tell if you aren’t singing, if you’re just lip syncing. They used to tell us that all the time in middle school— that and the fact that just saying watermelon softly doesn’t work.” 

Connor shrugs and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “I just need to pass.” He stands at the edge of the next set of stairs. He has to go down another flight to the music wing, Evan has to keep walking straight. “I’ll see you… Whatever, I’ll see you.” 

Evan nods. “See you,” he mumbles as Connor descends down the stairs, pushing through a group of students blocking the way. 

Evan takes a deep breath and turns away. One morning down. 

Who knows how many more to go. 

—«·»—  


Between second and third period, Zoe corners Evan by nurse’s office. He was just trying to stop by his locker before calculus, but now he doesn’t think he’s going to get the opportunity. 

“You’re friends with my brother,” she says. 

Evan blinks at her. “Y-yeah we’re— Connor and I are friends, we’re friends, yeah. Why?” 

Zoe frowns and her eyebrows draw together, making her forehead crease. “Why did I never see you two around school together before…” She motions to Evan’s cast. 

Evan grabs his cast with his other hand. “Because—” They talked about this the other night but now Evan’s words are getting caught in the back of his throat. “Connor— he didn’t want us hanging out together. At school. Just at school.” 

“Why not?” Zoe asks sharply. Evan steps back. “Because he’s embarrassed of you and is a bad friend?”

“N-no?” 

“Why did you go along with it?” she presses on. “Are you scared of him?” 

“No? I just— I respect his boundaries?” Evan picks at his cast. “I don’t— I-I was fine with it. He didn’t— there was no pressuring or anything that like it was just something that he asked and I was fine with it I didn’t mind.” 

Zoe searches his face like she’s trying to find some secret code in it and Evan tries not to collapse under her scrutiny. 

The warning bell rings.

“Okay,” Zoe says shortly. “Okay.” She turns on her heel and starts walking toward the band room. “I’ll talk to you later, Evan,” she says over her shoulder. 

And Evan dreads it. 

—«·»—  


Evan glances to Connor as he passes him in the hallway. Connor lifts his hand to acknowledge Evan. Evan forces a smile. 

Smiling at other people in the hallway instead of just looking at the ground. He can do that. 

Jared squints at Connor. Evan doesn’t even bother wondering when Jared caught up to him, Jared just appears sometimes. “Since when do you and the rejected emo talk?” He pokes Evan’s cast. “We both know you don’t have friends, I thought this was a fucking joke.” 

Evan winces. “It’s nothing.”

Jared doesn’t look entirely convinced, but he shrugs and moves on. For now. They really need to get Jared in on the lie before Jared somehow tells the entire universe and everything goes to hell. “Whatever, acorn.” Jared points to Evan. “Insurance?” 

“Yeah, whatever.” Evan stops at his locker and grabs the lock. 

“Nice. I’ll be— oh, hey. Alana.” 

Evan glances over his shoulder to see Alana standing next to Jared, stack of textbooks in hand. 

“Evan!” Alana exclaims. “You’re friends with Connor, right?”

Jared raises an eyebrow. 

Evan swallows. “Y-yeah? Why do— what’s up?” 

“Oh well, Connor doesn’t seem to like talking about his personal life with people and I was wondering how he’s doing.” She adjusts the books in her arms. 

“He’s— he’s fine,” Evan stutters. 

Jared rolls his eyes. 

Evan quickly turns back to his locker and starts stuffing books inside. 

“Do you think you could get him to talk to me about it?” Alana asks. 

“No?” Evan doesn’t really know what’s happening, but he knows there’s no way in hell he could get Connor to talk to Alana about this stuff. Or any stuff. He probably can’t get Connor to do anything. “W-why?” 

Alana takes a breath and Jared makes a face. 

“Well I was just thinking that his story might be good for other people, specifically students, to hear,” she explains. “There’s such a heavy stigma around mental health and I’m sure other people are struggling like he has. I think that it’s really important for people to hear these personal stories so they know they’re not alone.” 

Evan shifts uncomfortably. He glances to Jared, who shrugs. “I… I don’t…think he’d really, um, want to do that,” Evan says slowly. 

Alana’s face falls. “Oh.” 

“I-it’s a great idea!” Evan adds quickly. “I— That sounds like a really great idea! I just— Connor’s a pretty private person and I don’t— that might not be something he wants everyone to know about. Or know…more about.” 

Alana purses her lips. “I see. I’ll have to ask him myself,” she says. “Thank you, Evan!” she calls out as she hurries down the hall. 

Evan stares at her as she steps into the crowd. 

That was not the outcome he wanted. 

“Smooth,” Jared mutters. “Don’t know what the fuck is happening, but I know that you just dug yourself into a nice big hole.   

Evan grimaces. “Come on, Jared.” 

Jared pats Evan’s shoulder. “Good luck. You’re going to need it, ‘cause I think you just got moved to the top of Murphy’s hit list.” 

Evan wants to melt into the floor and die.

* * *

 

Connor drops down into the seat next to Evan. “Hey.” 

Evan looks up from his sandwich in surprise. “Oh, you— you have this lunch?” 

Connor shrugs. “Don’t usually come to it, but I didn’t eat breakfast today.” He puts down the lunch tray and pokes at the mixed vegetables with a fork. “This looks nasty.” 

Evan looks to his own lunch. A chicken patty that looks…unappetizing. “I didn’t even think about lunches, honestly.” 

“Fucking rotating schedules,” Connor mutters. He stabs a carrot with his fork and tries it. He makes a face. 

“Not good?” Evan asks. He picks up his chicken patty. 

“It’s really mushy,” Connor says after a moment. “It’s disgusting.” 

Evan takes a bite of his sandwich. 

“How do people think this is food?” Connor looks to the main part of his meal, a really sad excuse for spaghetti. “I changed my mind, maybe I’ll just starve to death.” 

Evan chews slowly. “At least it’s not freeze burned hot dog,” he says once he’s swallowed. “That happened to Jared in second grade.” 

Connor gags. “Okay, yeah. I hate this place.” 

Evan gives him an amused look. “When was the last time you actually came to lunch?” 

Connor squints. “I don’t know…sometime sophomore year? I don’t eat lunch like…what’s the fucking point of sitting here when I could be,” he looks around, “not surrounded by this?” 

Evan follows his gaze. This is a smaller lunch, so usually Evan sits at a table by himself. Some seniors are sitting outside at the few tables that are the remains of their senior privileges. There are people crowded around tables, sitting on chairs with their lunch trays on their laps. There’s too much laughing and talking and occasional screaming. All of the tables have food from previous lunches on them, the floor is uncomfortably sticky in some places, and it smells like bad cafeteria food and too many teenagers. 

“That’s fair,” Evan mumbles.    

Connor sighs and keeps eating. “The mashed potatoes aren’t bad,” he says after a moment. “Dry as fuck with no seasoning but I won’t die. The turkey is weird and possibly fake. But it’s better than my mom’s current vegan shit so.” 

“Vegan?” Evan asks. 

Connor nods. “She’s on a vegan health kick. Sometimes it happens. I just sneak out and get fast food if it’s bad— it’s usually bad.” He gives Evan a look. “If you get invited to dinner, don’t come it’s not worth the free food, believe me.” 

Evan blinks. “Don’t invite me then.” 

Connor looks at him for a moment. “Point.” He opens his milk, smells it, and then pushes the bottle away. “No. There’s no fucking way.” 

“What?” 

Connor picks the bottle back up again and looks at the date and then gags. “Hansen, what the  _ fuck _ .” 

“Is it spoiled?” Evan checks the date on his own milk. “Mine looks fine.” 

“Smell this.” Connor shoves the bottle at Evan and Evan almost falls off his seat leaning away from it. 

“What?! No!” 

Connor narrows his eyes. He takes another careful sniff and makes a disgusted face. “I’m never skipping breakfast again.” 

Evan slowly pushes his milk toward Connor. “Good plan.”

* * *

 

Jared crosses his arms. “So…Connor?” 

Evan closes his locker. “Don’t you have class?” 

“I am walking to class,” Jared says. “You just happened to be on my way.” 

Evan sighs. “What about him?” 

“What the fuck happened there?” 

Evan weaves through the crowd. He’s not trying to lose Jared, but if he did, that would be great. 

“No seriously.” Jared takes a few quick steps to get in front of Evan, spinning around to face Evan and walking backwards. 

Evan ignores him. “You’re going to trip.” 

“I know what I’m doing,” Jared says as he glances back over his shoulder. “But we both know you just hung out with trees all summer. How the fuck did you go from Murphy yelling at you in the hallway to being his best friend for ever and ever and ever.” 

Evan grits his teeth. “I— he was yelling at  _ you _ , Jared. That was your fault.” 

Jared shrugs. “To-may-to, to-mah-to. Whatever. There’s definitely something going on here.” He raises his eyebrows. “Is it a sex thing?” 

Evan stops walking. “Goodbye, Jared.” 

“Oh my god, it’s totally a sex thing!” 

“Go to class!”

* * *

 

Evan actively tries to avoid Zoe the next time he sees her walking his direction, but the universe has this funny habit of doing everything it possibly can to make his life miserable. 

“You’re invited to dinner,” she says, cornering him in the science wing. 

“W-what?”

“Dinner,” Zoe repeats. “Mom has been on Connor’s ass about it all week but we both know he won’t ask you.” She narrows her eyes at Evan. 

Evan shrinks in on himself. “Dinner dinner? Like…dinner?” 

She furrows her eyebrows. “Yeah. Dinner. What are you doing tonight?” 

“Nothing?” Evan mentally slaps himself. “I mean—” 

“Great then you can come have dinner at ours tonight.” 

Evan shakes his head. “Do you re-really think that’s a good—” 

“It’s a great idea,” Zoe interrupts with a flat voice. “It can’t go wrong in any way at all.” 

“Ah.” That’s incredibly comforting. He squeezes the straps of his backpack. “I-I mean I don’t want to— you shouldn’t go out of your way to—” 

Zoe crosses her arms. “My mom wants you there.” 

“Oh.” 

“ _ Please _ .” Zoe gives him a desperate look. “She just… God, she just wants to make sure you still exist. That’s all. It’s not an interrogation, it’s  _ dinner _ .” 

Evan glances around the hallway. “I-I guess that it’s— I mean if you really want me…to…” 

“She does,” Zoe insists. “It’ll get her off of my back. And Connor’s. I think she’s still in shock from finding out that Connor has actual friends.” She flicks her eyes up and down Evan’s body. Obviously her mom isn’t the only one in shock. 

This is going to be an absolute disaster. Evan’s stomach is already turning and his head hurts a bit. 

“So you’re coming?” Zoe confirms. 

Evan nods, because that’s all he can manage. 

“Great,” she says. Evan doesn’t think either of them think that it’s great. “Here,” she grabs Evan’s good arm and pulls a pen out from the side pocket her backpack. She uncaps it with her teeth and scribbles her number on Evan’s skin. She drops his arm and puts away the pen. “If Connor refuses to give you the address because he’s being a dick, just text me. Dinner’s at like six thirty.” 

Then she turns around and hurries down the hallway. She weaves between a few people before Evan loses track of her. 

He stares at the number on his arm. 

Shit. 

Evan takes a few slow breaths like Dr. Sherman always has him practice and reaches for his phone, his hands shaking. 

**From: Evan** **  
****To: Connor** **  
**      Im s o rry    
     Ims soryr Zo e conretd me and inviedme ot dinner and I apnaciked nad said ey s aso now I’m goign to dinner a t yrosu tongith? ? im soryr 

Evan tries not to think about dinner as he gets through his last class of the day, but he keeps seeing Zoe’s number on his skin and it makes him feel like there’s a heavy anchor on his chest. He keeps checking his phone under the desk, desperately waiting for a response from Connor. The only problem is that he’s in a practically dead zone of the school service wise, so he might not even get Connor’s text until later. 

His phone vibrates in his hands three minutes before the final bell. 

**From: Connor** **  
****To: Evan** **  
**      fuck 

—«·»—  


Evan is surprised to find Connor standing next to his locker. “Uh…h-hi?” 

“We needed to talk,” Connor murmurs. 

Evan nods slowly and reaches for his lock. His hands are shaking and he keeps messing up the combination. “I— About dinner tonight I, I mean I didn’t— Zoe just…” He wipes his hands on his pants and resets the lock. 

Connor makes a frustrated sound in the back of his voice. “It’s… _ fine _ . Zoe’s a bitch—” 

“D-don’t call her that.” 

“—and my mom’s been harassing me about it all week. I was trying to avoid this shit.” 

Evan can feel Connor’s eyes burning into him as he fumbles with the lock again. 

“You-you told me I shouldn’t— that dinner was a bad idea but I still said yes which was really, that wasn’t the best, I should’ve just said no but I panicked and saying no— I’m really bad at saying no.” Evan takes a deep breath and stares at his lock. The numbers are swimming in his vision. 

Connor nudges him. “Move.” 

Evan jumps away from him with wide eyes. “W-what?” 

“I can do it.” Connor spins the lock. “What’s the combination?” 

“Three, fifteen, fourteen,” Evan mumbles. He should be able to open his locker. He should be able to open a lock. He should be able to  _ do this _ . 

Connor pulls the lock open. “There.” He steps aside so Evan can put away his books. “Zoe already told my mom you were coming tonight. Got a bunch of excited text messages from her during class.” 

Evan avoids looking at him as he opens his locker and starts emptying his backpack. 

“Just…” Connor sighs. “Listen, it’s going to be fucked.” 

Evan glances up at him. “Why? Because I’m—” 

“No, because my family is fucked. We’re fucked up. We all hate each other and there is literally nothing but our ‘good name’ holding us together. It’s going to be shitty. The food will be bad, the conversation will be bad, and there might be yelling.” 

Evan takes a shaky breath. “Oh. That’s— um, it’s not…encouraging.” 

“I’m warning you.” Connor blows his bangs out of his eyes. “Don’t go in expecting the perfect American dream family, that’s just what my mom wants you to think.” 

“Are you trying to get me to not go?” Evan asks, forcing a laugh as he pulls his backpack on. 

Connor meets his eyes with absolute sincerity. “Yes.”  

—«·»—  


Evan doesn’t have to text Zoe for the address, Connor sends it to him without prompting. Followed by a text that says ‘dont get mauled by a deer’. Evan tries to take it as a joke — it should be a joke, Evan remembers everyone yelling in third grade because there were a couple of deer outside their classroom window — but he’s freaking out too much to take anything lightly. 

He scrubs Zoe’s number off his arm without even writing it down and he doesn’t know if he regrets that or not. He changes his shirt four times before putting one on that’s almost identical to the one he was wearing at school. He doesn’t know what to do with his hair. 

Zoe had said “like six thirty”, but Evan doesn’t know what that means. So he leaves earlier than he has to and follows the instructions he wrote down on his phone. He’s almost definitely going to be way too early and he’s not sure how he’s supposed to deal with that when he gets there. Maybe he can hide in the bushes or something until it’s a reasonable time to knock on their door. 

He finds himself standing on the edge of a driveway at 6:03. It’s not too dark yet, but the sun is beginning to set. He stares up at the house. The number is right but he wants to check. 

**From: Evan** **  
****To: Connor** **  
**      Your ho use is ti blue ? Like sorta darkish maybe grayish? 

**From: Connor** **  
****To: Evan** **  
**      yeah its blue and theres this huge ass tree in front of it thats a pain int he ass

Evan looks up at his phone. There is indeed a large tree. 

**From: Evan** **  
****To: Connor** **  
**      It looks liek a nice tree

**From: Connor** **  
****To: Evan** **  
**      you know you can come inside instead of standing out there like a stalker right

**From: Evan** **  
****To: Connor** **  
**      Im early 

**From: Connor** **  
****To: Evan** **  
**      and?????   
     we need to game plan hansen get inside   
     fuck it im coming to you

Evan is about to ask him what he means when the front door opens and Connor steps out, closing it behind him. Evan is suddenly very glad he didn’t ask, because that would’ve been a silly question, and things are already tense enough as it is. 

Connor makes his way down the driveway, tugging down the sleeves of his sweatshirt as he does so. “Do you like couscous?” he asks. 

Evan blinks. “I…don’t know?” 

“Okay, well my mom was saying something about couscous earlier, so that’s happening.” 

Evan frowns. “Um, okay.” 

Connor raises an eyebrow at him. “Were you just going to stand out here until you thought it was a good time to come in?” 

Evan looks at the ground. “No. I just— I was just. I’m early.” 

“Cool. You made it, though. Welcome to hell.” Connor gestures to the house. 

“I thought school was hell,” Evan says. 

Connor snorts. “That’s the hellhole. This is true hell. Because my family is there.” 

“Do you—” Connor turns his attention back to Evan and Evan hesitates. “Are things really…that bad?”

“I don’t have a door,” Connor says after a moment. “Larry took it away after I tried to off myself.” Evan takes a shallow breath. “Him and my mom fight all the time. Don’t know why they’re still together sometimes. I once threatened to kill Zoe while I banged on her door when I was high so honestly it’s no surprise that we barely talk. But it could be worse,” he says in an almost mocking way that’s almost jarring after his calm and steady tone. He looks at Evan with an empty look in his eyes. 

Evan thinks now is when he’s supposed to be afraid. 

But Evan is afraid of everything, and for some reason, this doesn’t make him any more anxious than usual.  _ Connor  _ doesn’t make him any more anxious than usual. The idea of a family dinner, yes. But Connor himself, no. 

Maybe it’s because he tried to fix things after he shoved Evan. Maybe it’s because Evan’s already snapped at him. Maybe it’s because he’s paying him twenty dollars to do this. 

But Connor Murphy doesn’t scare him. 

“I’m sorry,” Evan says softly when the silence has stretched thin. 

Connor scoffs. “Why?” 

“I…” Evan shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

Connor moves on. Evan is glad. “I can do most of the talking or whatever tonight. Hopefully my mom sticks to the basics. Zoe and Larry don’t even want to be doing this, so we should be okay on that end. If my mom asks too many personal questions I’ll tell her to fuck off, but mostly she’ll probably just ask you what you want to do in college.” 

“Uh…” 

“Exactly,” Connor says knowingly. “I hope you’re ready to face the fires of hell.” 

—«·»—  


The Murphy’s house is big. That’s the first thing that Evan thinks. 

There are three floors and an office and a living room  _ and _ a dining room and Connor just waves it all off as he gives Evan a quick tour of the first floor, gesturing to the basement door and the stairs to the bedrooms, and Evan is completely and totally overwhelmed. There are too many rooms and really the only one he needs to be able to find is the bathroom, there are multiple of those he knows that because Connor mentioned two upstairs, but Evan has gotten lost in the hallways and rooms and— 

He’s just going to follow Connor around like a lost puppy. Because if he tries to go anywhere in this house he  _ will _ get lost. 

“Kitchen,” Connor says, pointing toward a doorway. “I think my mom and Zoe are hiding out in there right now. Larry’s probably in his office because he’s always in his office. And dining room.” He gestures to the table. “There you go.” 

Evan nods. Sure. He didn’t give Connor a house tour when Connor visited the other day. He wonders if that’s the polite thing you’re supposed to do or just something that Connor is told to do. 

Zoe steps out of the kitchen with an armful of plates stacked with silverware. “You’re setting the table tomorrow,” she says to Connor as she puts down a plate. “Since you weaseled your way out of it tonight.” 

Connor rolls his eyes. 

“D-do you want help?” Evan asks, twisting the bottom of his shirt with his hands. 

Zoe gives Connor a pointed look. “No it’s fine,” she says, still staring at Connor. “I can handle it.” 

“You’re too nice,” Connor grumbles when Zoe disappears back into the kitchen. 

Evan laughs awkwardly. “I just— I don’t know how family dinners work?” 

“You’re lucky.” 

An older woman, Evan assumes Connor’s mom, comes out of the kitchen with a pot and Zoe follows closely after with a serving bowl. Evan thinks he may vaguely recognize her from elementary school, when PTA was a thing and when parents were always in the classroom helping with parties or snack time or library days— at least, the stay at home moms were. 

“Evan, my mom,” Connor says flatly. “Mom, Evan.” 

Evan waves awkwardly. “Th-thanks for having me, Mrs. Murphy.” 

She lights up. “Please! Call me Cynthia!” 

“Oh, okay.” 

Zoe puts the bowl down on the table. “I’ll get Dad.” She pushes past Connor without a word and Connor glares at her back. 

“Connor, sweetie, help me with the rest of the food.” Cynthia gestures for him to follow, which he does with a begrudging sigh. 

Evan follows, not really wanting to stay in the dining room by himself. The kitchen is big and and clean and well lit and everything is stainless steel and fancy. There are pots on the stove and dishes sitting in a dish rack and a patterned dish towel by the sink and Evan doesn’t know the last time him and his mom made a home cooked meal. He doesn’t remember the last time he made something more complicated than mac n cheese. 

“Do you— can I help?” Evan offers, because Connor is grabbing a pot and a potholder because he’s part of this family, even if he doesn’t feel like he is. 

“You can take this, if you’d like.” Cynthia motions to a bowl with carrots in it. “It’s sweet of you to offer.” 

Evan follows Connor back into the dining room, putting the bowl down on the table where there’s space and hoping there’s no order or specific placing to where things go. Zoe wanders back in from the back of her house, sliding her phone into her pocket. 

“Dad’ll be in in a sec,” she says, pulling out a chair. “Finishing up a call.” 

“Whatever,” Connor says. He drops down into a chair and points to the next one when he meets Evan’s eyes. 

“I was talking to mom,” Zoe says shortly. 

Connor just takes a long sip of milk.

Evan sits next to Connor. He tries to focus on the fact that the seat of the chair is comfortable and significantly higher quality than the old wooden chairs him and his mom have in their kitchen— old and battered and scratched up on the legs from when Evan was little and would run toy trucks into them over and over again.

Larry comes in and sits down on one end of the table, between Zoe and Connor. Somehow, that makes Evan nervous. He glances to Evan and looks at him like he can’t really believe he’s there. Valid, Evan can’t believe he’s here either. 

“Nice to see you again, Evan,” Larry says. 

“Y-you too,” Evan mumbles, looking down at his hands. Just get through dinner just get through dinner. 

Connor moves his silverware around. 

Cynthia sits down and everyone reaches for food. Evan stars as hands reach for spoons and bowls. Zoe starts talking as if cued. Larry gives short responses, Cynthia asks her questions, and Connor ignores her. Connor offers Evan a spoonful of something and Evan nods because he doesn’t know what it is so might as well try. Besides, it’d be rude to refuse food when they invited him for dinner. 

“It’s so nice to really meet you, Evan!” Cynthia says suddenly. Maybe not suddenly. Maybe Evan is paying even less attention than he thought he was. 

“It’s ni-nice to meet you too,” he stutters. 

Zoe raises her eyebrows at him. He can’t read what that’s supposed to mean. 

Evan swallows and picks at his food. He’s barely eaten all day and he should really eat now, but he can’t bring himself to bring food to his mouth. 

“So how did you two meet?” Cynthia asks. She looks between Connor and Evan. 

Evan and Connor exchange a glance. This is fine. They’ve talked about this. They just have to stick to the story. They’re fine. 

“School,” Connor says. “Last year, partway through second semester. I couldn’t figure out how to add a printer to the computer in the computer lab, so Evan did it for me.”

“It’s— the adding a printer thing is…unnecessarily complicated,” Evan says. “It’s just…” 

“Annoying,” Connor finishes. 

Zoe narrows her eyes at Connor. “I never saw you two hanging out around school together,” she says, pushing food around her plate. Evan puts his hands under the table and digs his nails into his palms. They’ve already talked about this, which means she’s just doing this to antagonize Connor. 

Evan glances at Connor out of the corner of his eye. Connor tightens his jaw. Evan looks away. 

Zoe points her fork at Evan. “I’ve only ever seen you hang out with Jared Kleinman, and he’s an asshole.” 

“Language,” Larry says, reaching for a bowl in the middle of the table. 

“No she’s right,” Connor says. “He is an asshole.” 

Evan makes a face. “I-I mean—” 

Connor turns to him and gives him a flat look. “Are you saying he’s not a jerk?” 

Evan stares at Connor for a long moment. “Didn’t say that.” 

“Jared?” Cynthia asks. “Do we know him?” 

Larry shrugs. 

“God I hope not,” Connor mutters. 

Cynthia gives him a pointed look before she looks to Evan. Evan’s stomach twists. “You should’ve come over during the summer! We would’ve been happy to have you.” 

Evan smiles weakly. “I-it’s fine! I was, um, I worked this summer. I-I was an apprentice park ranger at, at Ellison State Park? So I was— mostly I just…worked and slept.” He laughs awkwardly. “It’s fine.” 

“You had a job,” Larry says. He sounds almost impressed and Connor goes tense next to Evan. 

“Y-yeah. It was— I like trees so it was fun. Connor and I, uh, we just talked over email.” Evan stabs something with his fork and stuffs it into his mouth. He needs to stop talking immediately. 

“Emails?” Zoe laughs. “Are we in the stone age?” 

“No,” Connor says slowly. He looks to Larry with a flat glare. 

Evan bites down on his bottom lip.  

Larry meets Connor’s glare. “Email isn’t that outdated,” he says calmly. 

Connor scowls. Evan thinks that something is going to snap. It’s just a matter of who. 

Cynthia clears her throat. “So Evan, do you have plans for college yet?”

Fuck. 

To be fair, Connor did warn him. Evan had just been hoping that maybe… 

“Uh… I…I  _ want _ to go to college,” Evan says carefully. “Just…um. I don’t really know— I mean I haven’t really decided…” He looks down to his plate. “My mom has been, uh, having me do lots of scholarship stuff? I like…” What does he like? What can he make into a career? Shit. “Writing. And uh, nature. So maybe…something to do with one of those?” 

He looks up and Cynthia smiles at him. “That sounds nice,” she says. “It’s fine if you’re undecided right now, I was undecided for a very long time.” 

Zoe raises her eyebrows like she’s heard this hundreds of times before. 

“Applications are soon,” Cynthia muses. “Any idea where you’re applying yet?” 

“Um—”  

“Mom, come on,” Connor interrupts. “Can we not talk about college right now?” 

“Yeah, cause you’re not going,” Zoe says. 

Everything stops. 

Connor clenches his hands tight around his silverware, burning holes into the table with his glare. Larry stops eating to look at Connor. Cynthia pointedly does not look at anyone. Zoe stares at Connor with cold defiance in her eyes. 

It’s hard to breathe. The room is getting very small and Evan’s dish is swimming before his eyes. 

He wants to be anywhere other than here. 

“I think it’s admirable that Evan is going to college,” Larry says. He cuts something on his dish and the noise of the knife on the plate grates Evan’s ears and makes him cringe. “He’s making a future for himself. Building a life for himself.” 

Connor scoffs and Evan sinks back into his seat. 

Larry looks past Connor and at Evan. Evan feels like he’s suffocating. “Zoe’s already looking at colleges,” Larry says. “Maybe you two should compare notes.” There’s a joking tone in his voice. 

Evan feels sick. 

“What?” Connor asks. “Not going to outright tell me I’m throwing away my entire future tonight?” His voice is almost shaking and so are Evan’s hands. “Sorry I can’t be  _ perfect _ like Zoe is.” 

Zoe slams her silverware down on the table. “Don’t bring me into this! It’s not my fault you gave up on everything!” 

Evan’s breathing is getting more and more shallow and he’s just trying to take slow breaths but his head is spinning and he feels like he’s going to fall over. 

“Please,” Cynthia says softly. “We don’t—” 

“You were  _ always _ part of this!” Connor snaps. “You don’t get to write yourself out of my life!” 

“Fuck you!” Zoe shouts. 

“ _ Connor _ ,” Larry says harshly, “calm down and stop blaming Zoe for things you could have fixed yourself.” 

Evan squeezes his eyes shut tightly. 

“Fix it myself?!” Connor grits his teeth. “Don’t you think I fucking  _ tried that _ ?!” 

In.  _ One, two, three, four, five.  _ Hold. 

“Point out one time you  _ tried _ ,” Larry spits. 

_ One, two, three, four, five.  _ Out. 

“It would’ve been easier for you if I just  _ died _ ,” Connor snarls. “Maybe I should’ve.” 

Evan’s eyes snap open. 

Someone inhales to say something. 

Evan stands up. “I— Wh-where’s the bathroom?” 

Cynthia forces a smile, shaky and fake and unnatural. “If you go down the hallway to the lef—” 

Connor pushes his chair away from the table. “I’ll bring him.” He starts walking and Evan follows. 

Evan’s legs feel like jello and the colors of the world are muted. There’s a heavy weight on his chest and he can’t breathe anymore he can’t breathe. 

Connor brings him up the stairs and Evan focuses on not collapsing. 

“Here,” Connor says, opening a door at the end of a hall. 

Evan can’t even say thank you, he just brushes past Connor and leans against the nearest wall, trying to stay standing. His knees go weak and he slides to the floor. He puts his head between his legs and tries so hard to breath to just calm down to just  _ stop everything needs to stop _ . 

“Evan?” Connor asks. 

Did he close the door? He doesn’t think he closed the door. Everything feels weird and out of place and he can’t breathe he can’t breathe he can’t breathe— 

“Evan.” Connor’s voice is louder now. Closer. The door clicks closed. “Evan do you need me to do something?” 

Evan shakes his head. He shakes it a few more times. He’s okay. He’s okay. He feels nauseous and terrible but he’s not going to throw up. He’s going to pull himself together and he will be fine. He will be fine. 

Eventually he is more fine. His breathing evens out, his heart stops trying to beat out of his chest. His head hurts, but he’s less lightheaded. He’s not crying and he’s not choking back sobs. 

It’s okay. He’s okay. 

He looks up from his knees to see Connor sitting on the bathroom floor across from him. Connor studies him for a minute before he stands up and turns one the sink. 

Evan sniffs and wipes his face with the back of his hand. He doesn’t know when he started crying. It doesn’t matter anymore. 

“Here,” Connor says softly, handing Evan a cup of water. It’s one of those paper cups that they used to use back in elementary school when they did flouride. It has turtles on it. Evan wonders who bought them while he takes a small sip of water. 

His hands are still shaky but they’re a little bit better. 

“I’m sorry,” he says after a few more moments of silence. The water is half gone. Once he finishes it, he’ll probably keep holding onto the cup. Crumple it up in his hands. Rip it to pieces. Do something with his hands so he doesn’t lose it. “I-I didn’t—” He stops himself when Connor sits back down across from him. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Connor says. “I’m sorry. For my family. For me. For fucking…all of this.” He gestures around them. Around the bathroom that still looks like it belongs to little kids with it’s colorful shower curtain and flower and monkey patterned towels and turtle patterned cups. A bathroom that belongs to two kids. Not two people who can’t even eat dinner together without yelling at each other. 

Evan looks down into the cup. 

“I should’ve tried harder to stop you from coming,” Connor mutters. “I knew that it was going to end up like that.” 

“It’s— I-I wanted to come,” Evan says. “It’s not— d-don’t blame yourself.” 

Connor eyes him. “Fine. Then you aren’t allowed to think you ruined dinner. Because that was my entire family’s fault. We’re the reason that you’re—” 

“I’m fine.” 

Connor’s expression gets almost sad for a second. “Okay. You’re fine.” 

Evan drinks the rest of the water. “D-do they—? Are we supposed to…” 

Connor sighs and looks away. “It doesn’t matter. We don’t have dinner together as a family often for a reason. Zoe and Larry certainly don’t expect me back.” 

“Oh,” Evan whispers. 

“That extends to you,” Connor points out. “You’re my guest. Trust me, we can stay here until they coast is clear.” He glances to the door. “You can see people leaving the house from the dining room. I fucking hate open house plans.” 

Evan forces a laugh. “I-I guess that’s— that’s a fair reason to hate th-them.” 

Connor smiles a little and flicks hair out of his eyes. “They probably won’t be too much longer. I can go down before you, scout it out. 

Evan picks at the rolled edges of the cup. “D-do— do you sneak out? Often?” 

Connor shrugs. “Sometimes. Depends. I mean…not much point in being here.” He raises an eyebrow. “I can just go get high in the park.” 

Evan takes a deep breath. “I guess. M-my mom’s never home so…” He shakes his head. “No reason to leave when you’re— when you’re already alone.”

Connor nods and they sit in silence for a few minutes. “I’m going to go check,” Connor says, pulling himself to his feet. He opens the door a crack and slips through it, closing the door behind him. 

Evan crumples the cup up between his hands and then attempts to straighten it out again. 

Connor knocks once on the door before saying “It’s me” and opening the door. “Coast is clear.” He offers Evan his hand and pulls Evan up from the floor. 

Evan sways a little bit as he takes a step forward and Connor puts a hand on his shoulder. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing. 

Evan nods. “Fine. Just…tired.” 

“Right. Come on.” Connor leads him down the hall. 

Evan hesitates in front of a room with a doorframe but no door. He glances inside and sees Connor’s bag on his desk. 

Connor wasn’t joking about having no door. 

Connor opens the front door and steps outside with Evan. “Want me to walk you home?” Connor asks. “It’s kind of dark.”

They both look up at the sky. Evan will have to go mostly by the setting sun and weak streetlights. 

Evan shakes his head. “I’ll be okay, but thanks.” 

Connor opens his mouth and then closes it. “Okay. Just…I don’t fucking know. Text me when you get home or something. Try not to get hit by a car. Or a deer.” 

Evan gives him a small smile. “D-do you really have this many deer on this side of town?” 

“We’re only a fifteen minute walk away from each other, Hansen,” Connor points out. “But yes. Watch out for those motherfuckers.” 

“I will.” Evan walks down the front steps and then looks back at Connor. “I…thanks.”   

Connor scoffs. “For nothing.” 

Evan shrugs and walks down the unnecessarily long driveway. He takes out his phone and pulls up maps and puts in his address. The sun is setting faster and it’s starting to get colder and there’s a deep tiredness in Evan’s bones, but he’s okay. It’s okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyy this was fun. i love the Classic Dinner At The Murphys
> 
> i straight up dont know how to write over half of the characters in this show. id like to give a major shoutout to my good friend zack who drank milk, said "man this tastes weird", kept drinking it, checked the label, realized it was spoiled, and then said "well shit." 
> 
> see yall next time, hit me up on [tumblr](http://heavenansen.tumblr.com) if you wanna


	4. $80

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cause all that it takes is a little 
> 
> re
> 
> in 
> 
> ven
> 
> tion!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact i actually finished this like.....tuesday at 4 am cause i died for a bit between like 10-1 and then couldnt sleep. i have edited it since then tho so i promise its not too much of a disaster!
> 
> note: changed some of the tags on this because i think i was half asleep when tagging this fic. also made some edits to the last chapter, just little one word things because ive never heard of a beta
> 
>  **warnings:** implied past self harm, discussions of mental health, depression/depressive episodes, some suicidal thoughts. let me know if anything else needs to be tagged
> 
> enjoy!

**From: Evan** **  
****To: Connor** **  
**      Just go t home   
     Hope things ar eok with yoru family 

Connor stares at the texts for a few moments before he falls back onto his bed.

Who knows how his family is. 

Actually, he knows. A fucking mess. That’s what his family is. 

He can hear Zoe practicing in the room next to him, forgoing headphones and using her amp because she wants to piss him off more. Larry had slunk back to his office, and Connor was sure he did as soon as the opportunity presented itself. His mom is in the kitchen, probably aggressively cleaning dishes like a sparkling plate will fix her shattered family. 

Connor stares at the ceiling. 

Why did he think he could do any of this? 

He lifts his phone and looks at the screen again. Evan is trying. Which is just ridiculous. Evan is  _ trying _ with  _ this family _ . What the fuck. 

**From: Connor** **  
****To: Evan** **  
**      cool   
     they never are but thanks i guess

He tosses his phone to the side and debates doing homework. There’s not really much of a debate — he’s not going to do it — but the fact that he considered it is probably worth something. 

It’s not that late yet, which is frustrating. He wants to go to bed, but he’s also too high strung for that. Usually he’d be exhausted but—

Connor studies his ceiling. 

He’d been angry.  _ So angry _ . Burning and explosive. He had been on the edge of his rope and about to break— and then he’d been doused in a shock of cold water. He’d been standing outside the bathroom, insides blistering and turning to ash, and then he’d heard Evan’s unnatural breathing and all of that had just stopped. The fire was gone and he was left with only mild panic that made his mouth taste like metal and an icy chill of not knowing what to do or how to help. 

Somehow, sitting on the floor of him and Zoe’s painfully childish bathroom with Evan had been the most real part of the night. It felt the most solid, most tangible. Handing Evan one of those silly cups his mom kept buying, their fingers brushing as Evan took it with shaking hands, that was the most grounded he had felt in days. 

Fucking weird. 

There’s a knock on his doorframe. 

Connor sits up to see Cynthia standing there. “Oh. Hi.” 

She smiles, sadly because that’s the only way she smiles nowadays, and takes a step into his room. “Did Evan leave?” 

“Uh…yeah. It’s not like he could hide in my closet or anything.” They both look toward the disaster that is Connor’s closet. The doors won’t shut and clothes are piled up on the floor. There was a time where Connor liked things to be neat and orderly. Now he doesn’t have the energy. “He wasn’t feeling great.” 

She makes a concerned noise. 

“He, uh, gets sick really easily. He’ll probably be fine tomorrow.” Connor curses in his head. Better jot that down so he can tell Evan that Cynthia now thinks that his immune system is shitty. Because she’s probably going to shove all sorts of vitamins and health drinks at him the next time she sees him.  _ If _ there’s a next time. 

God there better not be a next time. 

Cynthia sighs. “I’m sorry about tonight, sweetie.” 

Connor shrugs and swings his legs off the side of the bed. “It’s not like it was going to be any different than usual.” 

The expression on her face is so pained that Connor has to look away. He can’t even be mad at her. He’s pissed at Zoe for her snippy comments. He’s mad at Larry because he’s always mad at Larry. He’s upset with his mom— the most he can be upset with her for is for not trying harder to stop things from getting out of hand. But when has she ever been able to stop it once it started? 

Mostly Connor is just mad at himself. 

The only reason Evan was here was because he gets paid twenty dollars a week. It’s not like he has any other obligation to be here. Or to hang around Connor. If there was ever a chance that Evan would actually like Connor, that just went out the fucking window. 

“Are you hungry?” Cynthia asks, softly. Not as forced as usual. Not as pressing. “You didn’t eat much.” 

“I’m fine,” Connor mutters. He tugs off his sweatshirt and throws it on his desk chair. He tries not to notice her eyes going to his arms and then flicking away. “I’ll grab something if I can’t sleep.” 

She sighs again. She does that a lot. Sighing. “Okay. Okay, just…” She steps forward and brushes hair away from Connor’s eyes. “Apologize to Evan for us, okay?” 

“Why?” Connor asks bitterly. “Because we can be better?” 

Cynthia doesn’t say anything. She just stands on her toes and presses a kiss to Connor’s cheek. “Sleep well, honey.” 

Connor stands in the center of his room after she leaves. He hates not having a door. It’s like his entire life is out in the open for his entire family to see and judge. Which is some bullshit. 

He looks around his room, open and exposed, and thinks that he should clean. Or something. He’s living in a dump. 

Connor picks up a sweatshirt and stuffs a few books onto an overflowing bookshelf. Under papers from junior year that he just needs to throw out when he gets the chance, he finds a watercolor sketchbook. 

He pauses with four old plastic water bottles in arm to flip through the sketchbook. It’s old as hell, he doesn’t even remember the last time he used watercolors. Or did any art that wasn’t just shitty sketches in his notebook when he didn’t feel like paying attention. 

He looks over his shoulder at the light in the hallway. 

Connor isn’t entirely sure where his watercolors are. Probably somewhere under the trash and clothing covering his floor. He looks from the watercolor sketchbook to his bed. 

He dumps the water bottles in the space between his wall and his bed and starts digging. It takes him almost twenty five minutes to find his watercolor palette. It’s old and dusty, the red is cracked and the purple is almost gone because he always really liked using purple for some reason, but it’s usable. 

It takes him a little longer to find brushes. He’s definitely missing some, but fuck it, he never actually knew what the different brushes were for. He just used whatever ones he felt like. 

He washes out an old mug that was on his desk from god knows when in the bathroom and fills it with clean water, grabbing a roll of paper towels from the hallway closet. Then he pushes the clothes on his floor into a pile against the wall so he can sit on the floor, because there is no way in hell that he’s cleaning off his desk for this. He fishes his earbuds out of his backpack and plugs them into his phone, turning on some random music that he’ll let fade to into background noise and pulls his hair up into a really messy ponytail.  

Connor can’t remember the last time he actually paid attention to art. He doodles a sketch that’s kind of messy but fine enough because it’s not like anyone is going to see this and then just goes for it. He doesn’t exactly remember how to do this, but he’s never been one for doing things the right way. There’s a reason he stopped taking art classes after freshman year. There’s something weirdly calming about the way the water spreads on the page and something familiar in the brushstrokes. Even when he fucks up and uses way too much water and he knows that the paper is going to be wavy and warped. 

He puts down the paintbrush to skip a song on his phone. He has another text from Evan. 

**From: Evan** **  
****To: Connor** **  
**      Im sorr y    
     YOu should nt feel that way abou tyour family 

Connor rolls his eyes. Evan really does try. 

**From: Connor** **  
****To: Evan** **  
**      its whatever, im used to it   
     mom says sorry about tonight. shes embarrassed   
     but seriously dont worry about it

He skips through the songs until he finds one that feels right, slower and almost more gentle, he really needs to pick up better watercolors because he’s going to need that purple, before putting his phone back down on the floor next to him.

All things considered, this isn’t the worst piece Connor’s ever done. He studies it as he takes a sip from his mug. 

He yanks the mug away from his mouth, gagging. He rubs his mouth with a grimace. 

That was paint water.

* * *

Connor doesn’t really leave his room much over the next two days. He eats because his mom wants him to, he doesn’t talk to Zoe, and he argues with Larry and wishes he had a door to slam. 

Then he sits on his floor and fills pages and pages of his sketchbook with shitty watercolor paintings. 

He splashes colors across the pages, sometimes not even trying to create a coherent image. He just needs something to do. 

He’s almost out of purple.

* * *

Connor waits by Evan’s locker Monday morning, folding and unfolding the twenty dollar bill in his pocket. Zoe needed to be early today for some band thing, so that means  _ Connor _ is early which just sucks. 

This school seriously needs a color palette that isn’t drab and depressing. Connor wears almost exclusively black, but fuck, tone down the gray. 

“Oh! Hey, you’re…already here.” 

Connor looks up from his phone. “Zoe,” he says. “Band shit. Fuck if I know.” 

Evan nods slowly and then reaches for his lock. 

“Wait.” Connor grabs Evan’s wrist. 

Evan freezes, wide eyes darting to Connor. “W-what?” 

Connor leans a little closer. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he whispers. Evan furrows his eyebrows. “My family is the fucking worst, you shouldn’t have to deal with that shit.” 

“I-it’s fine!” Evan stutters. “I don’t— no this is. This is okay.” He slowly pulls his arm out of Connor’s grip. 

Connor clenches his jaw and leans against the next locker. Evan doesn’t say anything as he opens his locker and starts taking out books. An unfairly loud part of Connor’s brain wonders if Evan is only doing this because he’s scared. 

It’s not that far fetched. 

“B-besides,” Evan adds, “Jared is— he’s already asking too many questions and if we just stopped now—” 

Connor frowns. “He is?” 

Evan gives him an exasperated look. “He hasn’t texted me about non homework things in forever and he’s just been sending me ‘is it a sex thing’ for a week.”

“Wow I hate him,” Connor says before he can stop himself.

Evan laughs in surprise. 

“He’s a  _ douche _ !” 

Evan ducks his head. “He’s not the worst person ever, b-but he can be…himself.”

“And that’s pretty bad,” Connor mutters.  

Evan pauses and then closes his locker. “Do— are you still okay with…with telling him?” 

Connor shrugs. “Sounds like we have no choice.” 

Evan tugs on the hem of his shirt. “Are you…free today?” 

“I literally have no life or friends, Hansen,” Connor reminds him. “I’m always free.” 

“Okay, right, okay.” Evan takes a short breath. “Can we— today?” 

Connor stuffs his hands in his pockets. He hasn’t gotten harassed by Kleinman about this yet, but if they wait, the chances of that happening increase significantly. And if it’ll get Jared off Evan’s back— “Yeah sure. Where?”

“My place?” Evan asks. Connor pulls open the door to the stairwell. “I-if that works?” 

“Sure thing.” Connor’s voice echoes uncomfortably loud for this conversation. “Better than being at home anyway.” 

Evan glances back over his shoulder at Connor. “Are things…bad?” He says it slowly, like he’s not sure what word to choose. 

“They’ve been worse,” Connor admits. “But it’s not a party.” 

Evan stops at the stairs where Connor has to keep going down to get to chorus. “I’ll— I’ll text you? About the time?” 

Connor nods. “Sounds good, Hansen. See you then.” He steps forward and hands Evan the twenty that has been floating around in his pocket for too long. “Forgot to pay you back for food last week,” he says when Evan’s eyes dart toward people walking past. 

Evan gives him a half smile and takes the bill. “I-I told you it was fine. I can pay sometimes.” 

Connor shrugs and turns toward the stairs. “Too late.” 

—«·»—

**From: Evan** **  
****To: Connor** **  
**      Im s o s rry just ignore him or block him he grabbed my phon e    
     Serious ly blockign him mihgt be the best opti n

**From: Connor** **  
****To: Evan** **  
**      ??????

Connor probably shouldn’t be texting in class, but the class is astronomy and also when has Connor ever given a fuck. He stares at Evan’s messages, trying to decode them while he waits for the lunch bell.

It turns out he doesn’t have to wait that long to figure out what they mean. 

**From: (522) 101-5414** **  
****To: nerd, emo** **  
**      sup fuckers

Connor doesn’t even have to ask who it is, he just tries not to groan and texts Evan. 

**From: Connor** **  
****To: Evan** **  
**      seriously??

**From: Evan** **  
****To: Connor** **  
**      Im sorry !!!   
     Hes being a  d ick    
     Also does like 3 work? 

Connor huffs and glances to the clock. That’ll give him about an hour to kill after school before he can show up at Evan’s. Whatever, he’ll figure something out.

**From: Connor** **  
****To: Evan** **  
**      thats fine   
     tell kleinman if hes being a dick i will hurt him

Evan’s response is almost immediate. 

**From: Evan** **  
****To: Connor** **  
**      I wouldnt blame you but ma y be dotn hurt the one pe rson whos gonna knw about us

Connor snorts and puts away his phone. He’ll do his best, but only because Evan asked. 

—«·»—

Connor texts Evan as he walks up to the house. The door is open before he can even knock. Evan looks slightly panicked, but also somewhat relieved. Connor lowers his hand from where he was about to knock. 

“He here?” 

Evan nods and grabs Connor’s sleeve, tugging him inside. 

Connor takes off his boots while Evan rambles on about Jared being in his room and talking about  _ something _ , summer camp? Maybe? And then there’s a tangent about cars? Connor isn’t sure but he puts down his boots, straightens, and puts a hand on Evan’s shoulder. “Breathe,” he interrupts. “You’re going to pass out and you  _ really _ don’t want to leave Kleinman and I alone together.” 

Evan takes a slow breath. “Right. Right. He’s… Come on.” 

He shows Connor up the stairs, gesturing vaguely to a bathroom as he moves toward his room. Connor didn’t really notice how small Evan’s house is the last time he was here, but now he feels too large in it, like he’s taking up too much space. But it’s also comforting in a weird way, less empty space for thoughts to echo. 

Jared spins around in Evan’s desk chair when Evan opens the door. “Man of the hour!” Jared announces, opening his arms in Connor’s direction. 

Connor flips him off. 

“Okay, rude. I can work with rude.” 

“Jared,” Evan says warningly. 

“I know, I know.” Jared spins back and forth a little in the chair. For some reason, Connor thinks giving him a chair that turns may have been a bad idea. “If I’m an ass you won’t give me pizza.” 

Connor scoffs. “You  _ bribed him _ ?” 

Evan shrugs helplessly. “I just— can we not talk about this?” 

“Yeah,” Jared agrees. “I was promised juicy deets on whatever the fuck this is.” He motions between Connor and Evan. “Cause uh,” he laughs, “guys, what the shit?” 

“We aren’t friends,” Connor says flatly. 

Evan twists the hem of his shirt in his hands. 

“Yeah no  _ shit _ , Sherlock.” Jared grabs the arms of the chair and leans forward. “Wait this  _ is _ a sex thing, isn’t it! Evan you said—” 

“It’s not a sex thing!” Evan shouts. “It’s a—” He looks to Connor with wide eyes. “A…fake friend…thing?” 

“Excuse me?” 

Connor explains before Evan can flounder any more. “I give Evan twenty bucks a week to pretend to be my friend.” 

Jared stares at them. 

Evan shifts uncomfortably next to Connor. Connor kind of wants to leave, but Evan wants to do this, so… 

Jared snorts. “Are you fucking  _ serious _ ?” 

Evan cringes. “Y-yes?” 

“This is—” 

“We know, Kleinman,” Connor snaps. “But we need your help.” 

Evan looks at Connor in surprise. ‘We do?’ he mouths to Connor. Connor nods. Spur of the moment thought, but he literally can’t keep dealing with Zoe bugging him about Evan. Who gives a shit if they never hung out together around school, even if that is a lie. He needs some sort of proof so she shuts up. 

Jared spins slowly in his chair. “How so?” 

“Evan said we emailed each other,” Connor says. “But my dad checks my email. So this email account would have to be ‘secret’.” 

Jared raises his eyebrows. “That’s—” 

“We know, Jared!” Evan interrupts. “C-can you just—” He glances toward Connor. “We need…emails from over the summer?” Connor nods. “Can you just, like, show me how to fake the timestamps o-or something?” 

“Oh yeah, that’s super easy,” Jared says. He leans down and unzips the backpack leaning against the desk and pulls out a laptop. He opens the laptop and types something out. “Secret email account is very—” 

Connor grits his teeth. “Just do it, Kleinman.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Watch the monkey dance,” Jared mutters to himself. “That’s super fun.” He pauses. “If Evan gets twenty bucks a week for this, what do I get?” 

“The gift of life.” 

Evan shoots Connor a look. 

“Awesome.” Jared types for another moment. “You know,” he says, “twenty bucks seems pretty cheap.” 

“Are you trying to be difficult?” Connor grumbles. 

“Always.” 

“I-it’s fine,” Evan stutters. “Re-really, Jared?” 

“I’m just  _ saying _ ,” Jared says with a shrug. “You should totally charge more for more complicated stuff. Twenty for faking friendship, forty for hanging out, sixty for being around the family.” 

“What?!” 

Connor glances to Evan out of the corner of his eye. Evan is protesting, but it’s not the  _ worst _ idea. Especially after the dinner that Evan suffered through. Connor is going to have to ‘borrow’ more money from his parents’ wallets, but hey, at least it’s not for weed. 

“I really fucking hate that I’m saying this,” Jared and Evan look over to Connor, “but that’s not a terrible plan.” 

Jared smirks. “Nice.” 

Evan gapes. “W-what?” 

“If you spend a few hours dealing with my shitty family, that probably is worth more than saying hi to me in the hallway.” Connor crosses his arms. “I should probably pay you more when you have to deal with more bullshit.” 

“N-no, that isn’t— you don’t have to—” 

“Let him give you money, Evan.” Jared types rapidly on his laptop. “I’m making you two up a fucking price chart for reference.” 

“Jared—” 

“One condition,” Connor says. “If we’re doing this it’s only ten dollars a week, if that’s okay,” he directs the last part to Evan. “I’m not a goddamn millionaire.” 

“Annoying but valid,” Jared says. “The weekly flat rate is ten dollars then, nonnegotiable.” 

Evan sinks down into the other chair that someone had pulled up to the desk. 

“I think the first step up is hanging out outside of school.” Jared glances to Connor. 

Connor nods. “Three for outside, five for my house.”

“Do I get a say in this?” Evan asks weakly. 

“Nope,” Jared says, popping the ‘p’. “If hanging out involves the fam, I say it’s an instant five more.” 

“How about two added on to the location fee,” Connor argues.

Jared scoffs. “That’s three dollars, man.” 

“Try to remember we’re high schoolers,” Connor says flatly. 

Evan wimpers.

Jared pats Evan’s arm. “Okay. Extended family is another three. No arguing that one, extended family is bullshit. Twenty bucks flat for a sleepover. Like on  _ top _ of the weekly ten.” 

Evan’s eyes go wide. “What?! No!” 

Jared looks to Connor. 

Connor shrugs. “Fine.” He doesn’t think that will be relevant but whatever. If it gets written down it’s not the end of the world. 

Jared smiles to himself and starts to type quickly. 

“W-what are you doing?” Evan asks, leaning closer to try and get a look at the screen. 

Jared elbows Evan away. “Shh I’m working.” 

Connor raises his eyebrows. 

“Aaaaaand…done.” Jared spins his laptop to show Connor. 

Connor squints at the list Jared has made on the document.

* * *

  **This is the Worst Plan I’ve Ever Heard But Have Fun You Friendless Losers  
** created by Jared Kleinman

**$10** — weekly flat rate no matter what

—

Casual Shit:

**$3** — hanging out outside of school  
**$5** — hanging out at the Murphys’  
( **+$2** to location fee if it involves other Murphys)  
( **+$3** more if it involves any extended family)  
**$20** — sleepover

—

Romance Shit:

**$25** — date  
**$5** — hug  
**$15** — kiss  
**$200** — Full Fake Boyfriend Package™

(FFBP™ decreases all things in this section by $10, except for dates, which drop to $20. No, you do not get paid for hugs, hugs are just free now. Congrats, you just paid two hundred fucking dollars for a free hug)

* * *

Connor rolls his eyes. “You’re fucking hilarious,” he deadpans. 

Evan pales as he reads it once Jared has turned the screen toward him. “Uh…” 

Jared snorts. “It’s called a  _ joke _ , dude. Learn to take it.” 

“J-just delete it,” Evan stammers. “That’s not— we were supposed to make emails.” 

“Okay.” Jared highlights the romance section and deletes it. “It’s gone.” 

Evan sighs. “Thank you.” 

Jared does a keyboard shortcut. “And it’s back!” 

“Jared!” 

“Gone! And back!” 

Evan’s ears turn pink. “S-seriously?” 

Jared just wiggles his eyebrows and deletes it again. When he starts to hit undo, Connor leans forward and grabs the laptop out of his hands. 

“Dude!” 

“We aren’t fucking  _ five _ ,” Connor says. “Can you help us with these emails before my sister tries to call a fucking private detective on me or are you just going to be a dickhead?” 

“That’s no way to talk to someone who’s helping you out,” Jared says. But he holds out his hand for the laptop, and when Connor gives it back, he spins around, puts the laptop on the desk, and opens a new tab. 

Him and Connor set up a new email account and then Jared has Evan open up his own email. As Jared sets up faked emails that Evan and Connor will fill with mindless shit, Connor looks around Evan’s room. 

There’s a window with two small succulents sitting on its windowsill. There are pictures scattered around the room in mismatched frames, a lot of Evan and a woman he assumes is his mother, more than a few of Evan and Jared when they were younger but less and less as they get older until there’s none, and one small picture of Evan with a man that looks vaguely like him that sits on the corner of Evan’s desk, a stack of books obscuring it slightly. 

Connor remembers Evan saying something about his dad and looks away. 

Evan’s room is much smaller than Connor’s. It’s cozier and cleaner, but still untidy. The books in Evan’s shelves are piled up and tipping over, there are a few sweatshirts draped around the room, and there’s a terrifying looking pile of papers on his nightstand. 

“Yo,” Jared says, holding out his laptop to Connor. “Work out what you want these to say with Evan so I can finish this. While you do that I’m going to find some snacks.” 

“We’re out,” Evan answers almost immediately from where he’s bent over his laptop. 

“I’m going out to buy snacks,” Jared corrects. “See you in a bit, losers.” 

Connor stares at the blank form that Jared has pulled up on the screen. How many of these things is he going to have to do and is this going to turn into a school assignment? 

“It’s probably easier if one of us starts,” Evan murmurs. “And then we just go back and forth and respond to whatever the other says.” 

“Like actual emails.” 

Evan rolls his eyes. “Yeah, just faster.” 

“Sure. Let’s keep the things that can mark when this shit got sent to a minimum, okay?” Connor’s summer is a blur. He spent probably too much of it high and another big majority of it just doing nothing. Looking back at it, it all just blends together into a mess of shitty and shittier. 

Evan nods. “Mhm. I’ll start if you want.” 

“Go wild.” 

As Evan types, Connor clicks through the other tabs Jared has open. One for the email account, a few google searches, a coding thing Connor doesn’t understand, and the price list. Jared put the romance section back. 

Connor makes a note on the document that just says ‘youre a dick’ and clicks back to the dauntingly blank form. 

An hour later, Evan has finished his sixth email, Connor is typing out a shitty response, and Jared has shown up with enough chips to feed a small nation. They figure out how to space the emails they’ve already written and Jared gets to work on finishing up the ones they’ve got written. 

“Should we do the whole summer?” Evan asks. 

Connor shrugs. “I don’t care, Zoe will probably buy it with one or two.” 

Jared spins back and forth as he adds all the timestamps. “Someone order a pizza, I’m dying.” 

Evan checks the time. “Jared it’s only—” 

“Yeah? And?”

“You just ate like an entire bag of chips.” 

Jared looks up at Evan. “When has that ever stopped me from eating an entire pizza?” 

Evan shakes his head. “W-whatever. The usual?”

Jared shoots him a finger gun as he types with one hand. 

“I’ll go with,” Connor says. He follows Evan down to the kitchen to see another twenty dollar bill in the center of the table. “Want me to call it in?” he asks. 

Evan nods. “Jared always gets a supreme. If he doesn’t finish he just brings it home.”

Fair, Connor would do the same if he cared more about eating. He can only handle so much of his mom’s cooking. Connor places the call and then waits with Evan at the table. “Does your mom have you get takeout a lot?” he asks, looking at the bill. 

Evan follows his gaze. “Uh… I-I mean…yeah. She works all day at the hospital, she’s a nurse, a-and then takes night classes at the college,” he gestures vaguely toward the street and Connor assumes he means the community college that people who are ambitious like Alana Beck go to to take summer classes so they look more impressive to admissions, “so…she doesn’t really have ti-time to cook and I’m— I’m not very good at it,” Evan mumbles. “I can do…ramen? Um…mac n cheese. Instant stuff. Other than that I can make like…pasta and grilled cheese and that’s…sort of it. But she doesn’t have a lot of time to go to the grocery store and I, uh, don’t like going so. Takeout is…easier.” 

Connor nods. “I get that. You can’t go wrong with ramen noodles. One day we’ll both be living off them,” he jokes. 

Evan looks to him in surprise. He smiles a little. “Y-yeah, I guess that’s true.” 

Connor suddenly realizes that he talked about the future casually. About  _ college _ casually, because he can remember one time when he was little and sick and Larry made ramen noodles for him and Connor had decided that they were the best thing ever and Larry had ruffled his hair and said that he’d get sick of them when they were all he ate in college. It’s uncomfortable. It settles wrong inside him. Because outside of the context of that one quip, the future doesn’t feel real. It feels like some untouchable abstract concept. 

Thinking about it makes his stomach turn and makes dark thoughts creep in from the corners of his mind. 

He shakes them away and listens to Evan talk about how he’s ruined soup before. It’s better than thinking about a future that hardly exists, one that he’s ready to cut the string on at almost any given moment in time. 

Evan buries his face in his hands as he tells Connor about the time Jared tried to make eggs in the microwave and almost set fire to the house. Connor laughs and pretends he’s okay. 

When the pizza arrives, Connor pays the delivery person while Evan goes and gets Jared. It’s too early for dinner, but Jared doesn’t care and eats two slices before going upstairs to grab his laptop and then eats another. Evan eats breadsticks and lets Jared carry most of the conversation, about half of which is about how weird Connor eats his pizza. 

Evan makes Connor take a slice of pizza back, because he ends up missing dinner at home, and Connor just rolls his eyes and takes the plastic tupperware and promises to give it back at some point. Evan shakes his head and tells him not to, because they have too much and they can never find lids that match. Connor figures he’ll just slip it back into a cabinet the next time he comes over. 

Next time. Connor doesn’t think in next times. Weird. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Local Man Doesnt Understand The Concept Of Friendship
> 
> i really hope youre all enjoying this fic because im having a great time writing it! if you noticed the email reason being a little awkward, its because the jared scene i wrote ages ago in class when i didnt want to pay attention, and i hadnt realized yet that emails werent _entirely_ necessary. but i didnt want to change that aspect of what id written because im stubborn sO JUST GO WITH IT ITLL BE FINE
> 
> someone take away my ability to use metaphors
> 
> i have a similar problem to evan when it comes to tupperware. either way too much or way too little. and also, we ALL judge connor for how he eats pizza, its just weird.


	5. $98

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonding and more pizza

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy birthday to myself heres a mess of a chapter thats literally ALL over the place but i do what i want
> 
> ive been watching the gbbo cause ive been super sick and now i will now project as i do with everything else. speaking of which, everything thats been mentioned happening in school in this fic has happened!! that applies to this chapter too!! isnt public school fucking wild
> 
>  **warnings:** anxiety, anxiety/panic attack, some suicidal thoughts, let me know if any other warnings should be added
> 
> enjoy!

“Do you usually walk home?” Evan asks, following Connor out of the school. 

“Yeah.” 

“Do you not— do you drive?” 

Connor gives Evan a weird look. “Why?” 

Evan shrugs. “I don’t— I mean, most people drive. That’s a thing. That teenagers do. Jared drives. A-Alana drives. Um…most of our senior class drives, e-even if they don’t have a car. The juniors drive. Some of the older sophomores drive—” 

“And are incredibly annoying about it,” Connor interrupts. 

Evan ducks his head. “Not as annoying as the freshman.” 

“God you’re right.” They stop at a stoplight and wait for the walking light to turn. Connor runs a hand through his hair. “I have my license, but I’m not allowed to drive right now.”   
Evan frowns. “Why not?” 

Connor takes a step off the sidewalk and looks down the road. “Come on,” he says, motioning for Evan to follow. He takes long strides as Evan rushes to catch up. “Parents. Mom’s worried about me driving high or hurting myself. Larry’s worried about the car.” 

“O-oh.” 

Connor furrows his eyebrows and glances down at Evan. “Don’t worry about it, Hansen. I don’t care what he thinks.” 

Evan nods. “Right. Right, duh. Of course you don’t.” 

Connor shakes his head. “By the way, did I mention that my mom thinks that you have a really garbage immune system.” 

“She does?” Evan asks in surprise. “W-why?” 

“Word vomit.” Connor makes a face. “My bad.” 

“I mean…” Evan pulls on the straps of his backpack. “That’s not— Anxiety can like…really screw up your immune system? Um…stress is bad for you. And I’m…always stressed.” 

Connor snorts. “No shit.” 

“Yes shit,” Evan mutters. “Cold season is a ni-nightmare.” 

“Drink more tea,” Connor suggests. 

“Wow, never thought to try that before.” 

Connor laughs. “Okay, fine. I’ll let you suffer on your own then. Have fun being sick.” 

“Being sick is the  _ worst _ .” Evan steps closer to Connor to avoid a puddle. “B-because if you’re sick you miss class and then you miss work and everything starts piling up and then you have way too much work to do and then you’re failing out of school.” 

Connor is quiet for a second before he says, “I don’t know, I skipped most of school last year and I’m still here.” He tilts his head as he looks at Evan. “I think you’ll be okay.” 

“Okay is relative,” Evan murmurs. 

“Anyway I wanted to warn you in case my mom starts shoving fucking…vitamins or a ridiculous amount of citrus fruits at you.” Connor steps onto the street as the sidewalk ends and casually walks in almost the middle of the lane. “She can be really…”

“Worried?” Evan suggests. 

“I was going to say aggressive, but that word is nicer.” 

“Hm.” Evan can’t really remember the last time his mom  _ really _ fussed over him. It sometimes happens in quick bursts when she’s home, but she’s never home enough to really worry about him. She refills his meds when he needs more, she leaves him money for dinner, she pushes the scholarship applications. He can’t really imagine her trying to get him to take vitamins or eat oranges or anything like that. 

Evan shakes away those thoughts and focuses on the walk to the Murphys. It’s nice. The trees have started to change color with the turn of the season and it’s starting to get colder. Not too cold, but cold enough that he has to start bringing a sweater to school. They’re only three days into October, but Jared has already started yelling about Halloween. 

Evan looks at Connor out of the corner of his eye. It’d definitely be too weird to ask what Connor is doing for Halloween. He’s probably going to go out and get high or something. That’s what most teenagers do on Halloween, right? Go party and take advantage of illegal substances? 

Evan will probably just leave out a bowl of candy on the steps and watch TV. That won’t be too bad. Or different from what he’s done for the past few years. 

“Mom’s really into seasonal decorating,” Connor says when they get to his house. He nods to the autumn wreath hanging on the front door as he pulls out his key. “There’s a fine line between classy and tacky and I don’t think anyone in my family knows where it is.” 

Evan smiles. “I think it’s nice.” 

Connor huffs. “You would.” He opens the door and bends down to pull off his boots. “I’m home!” he shouts as he leans against the wall to undo the zipper. “Evan’s here too.”

Evan toes off his sneakers and moves them next to Connor’s boots. Connor had slipped him fifteen dollars this morning instead of ten and asked if Evan was free after school. Evan never does anything other than homework and therapy, and therapy is a Wednesday event. 

Cynthia pokes her head out of the kitchen as they pass it. She smiles at Evan. “Hello, Evan! Are you two hungry?” 

Connor looks to Evan and Evan shakes his head. “N-no, I’m good but th-thank you!” 

She nods. “Let me know if you need anything.” 

“Let’s go.” Connor leads Evan up to his bedroom. He tosses his backpack onto the desk and kicks a few things on the floor into what is sort of a pile of things against a wall. “I’d apologize for the mess but I don’t give a shit.” 

Evan wonders if it’s weird not having a bedroom door. It seems uncomfortable. “I-I don’t mind,” he promises. 

“Cool.” Connor bends down and picks up a mug from the floor. He looks inside and makes a face before putting it on the desk. 

“What’s that?” Evan asks. And a better question is probably, should Connor wash it or just throw it out. Sometimes it’s not worth it to try and save dishes and the best option is to just toss them with whatever disgusting thing is growing in or on them. 

“Paint water,” Connor says. He pushes the mug further away from the edge of his desk. “It looks like puke. Probably need to clean it.” 

“You paint?” Evan asks in surprise. 

“Not really.” Connor pulls out the desk chair and then leans against the edge of his bed. 

Evan hesitates before he sits down in the chair. “I-I didn’t know you liked art.” 

“I don’t. Art is the fucking worst.” 

Evan blinks. “Uh…okay?” 

“It’s  _ hard _ ,” Connor almost whines. “Like…what’s the fucking point?” 

“I don’t know,” Evan admits. “I’ve never really…done it outside of elementary school art classes and those were… I mean, we drew shoes that one time? Do— do you remember that?” Their art teacher had brought in a giant shoe because her husband’s company made custom shoes for basketball players, whose feet were so big they couldn’t buy shoes in a normal store. Now he wonders if the shoe was that big or if they just seemed big to second graders. 

Connor furrows his eyebrows. “Yeah…yeah I think I do. She made us take off our sneakers and put them on the table. And Josh Powers threw his at Marcus and hit…who’d he hit?” 

“I think it was Rachel,” Evan says slowly. 

Connor narrows his eyes. “Which…which one?” 

“The…redhead?” Evan sometimes forgets how many kids in their grade have the same names. 

Connor groans. “ _ Which _ redhead?” 

“You know multiple redheaded Rachels?” Evan asks, mostly just amazed that Connor knows people in their school beyond people he interacts with.

“It’s not as bad as the Olivias,” Connor points out. “I remember there were three in class in fourth grade.” 

Evan snorts. “In third grade I had two of the Zacharys, two Hannahs, and two Joes.” 

“ _ God _ .” Connor sits down on his bed. “Thank god the other Connor is in Zoe’s grade. I refuse to deal with that shit.” 

“Elementary school was— it was…something.” 

Connor nods. “Yeah. Lots of things were thrown.” 

Evan doesn’t mean to, but he starts laughing. He claps his hands over his mouth and stares at Connor with wide eyes. “I’m sorry!” he says, voice muffled by his hands. 

Connor rolls his eyes. “It’s  _ fine _ , Hansen. I said it. And there  _ was _ a lot of things thrown. Shoes. Dodgeballs. Printers. Bats. Rocks—” 

“Tables at the principal.” Evan says.

Connor stares at him. “Wait what?” 

“Uh…” Evan rubs the back of his neck. “Fourth grade. We had a project where— we were supposed to make an earthquake proof building out of whatever the teacher gave us and we— Well we made our own construction companies up? It was part of the presentation and one of the kids in our group didn’t like the name we chose and he started getting really really mad and the teacher called the principal and when the principal came in he threw the table and the project at her.” He meets Connor’s eyes. “Um…you-you weren’t the only one to uh…maybe have some anger problems? When we were growing up?” 

Connor crosses his arms. “Growing up?  _ Just _ growing up?” Evan would be nervous, except for the smile at the corner of his mouth. 

“You never threw someone into the chairs in the cafeteria and beat them to a pulp,” Evan whispers. 

Connor straightens. “You  _ saw _ that?!”    

“Part of it. Heard more of it. Jared got a video.” 

Connor whistles. “Shit, man. Sometimes I wonder how I’m the school freak when we have shit like that go down.” 

Evan laughs nervously. So yeah, some guy in their grade sent a kid to the hospital for making a move on his girlfriend, and there were a group of girls who got into a fight at the mall, and some other kid who got suspended for bringing a knife to school and doing knife tricks during class. But still, Connor Murphy has always been the one everyone is afraid of. “I th-think it’s the black clothing and long hair? M-maybe?”

“You can jump on the haircut train with Larry,” Connor says, shaking his head, “but I’m not cutting it.” 

“I like it.” Evan feels his ears burn. “It’s— it fits you.” 

Connor stares at him before smiling slowly. “Thanks.” 

Evan ducks his head. “Um… Can you— could you show me…any of your art?” 

Connor sighs. “I guess.” 

“I— You don’t have to! If you don’t want to you shouldn’t— I didn’t mean to pressure you into—” 

Connor stands up and reaches for something on his shelves. “Hey, Ev, don’t worry about it. It’s fine. The world won’t end if you look at shitty doodles.” He grabs a spiral bound sketchbook off the top of his bookshelf. “Don’t expect anything actually good.” He opens the sketchbook and flips through it. “Here.” 

Evan takes the sketchbook from Connor. The right page is filled with a bunch of drawings. A few are half finished, others barely made it past a rough outline, but a couple are more complete. In the corner there’s a drawing that’s been completely scribbled out with such intensity that Evan wouldn’t be surprised if Connor broke the pencil while doing it. On the left page is a profile someone with a strong nose and a rounded jawline, staring ahead with a blank look in their eyes. 

The contrast between styles is almost incredible. Evan looks between the quick, looser, and more cartoony style and almost realistic sketch in amazement. The way that the person’s hair is tucked behind their ears and there’s soft shading on their neck, like Connor was afraid to do anything more. 

“Wow,” Evan breathes. “These are really good.” 

He looks up to see Connor giving him a funny look. “I’m paying you to be my friend. You don’t have to be a kiss up too.” 

“I’m not,” Evan promises. “You’re good.” 

Connor scrunches up his nose and takes the sketchbook back. He holds it up and tilts his head as he looks at the pages. “Okay…yeah I’m not seeing whatever you’re talking about. Just shitty doodles and a bad attempt to draw someone I saw in a waiting room.” 

“I like them.” Connor lowers the sketchbook and Evan shrugs. “I don’t know anything about art, but you aren’t bad at it. I can tell you that.”

“Okay,” Connor says slowly. “Okay.” 

Evan shifts uncomfortably in the silence. He doesn’t really know where the conversation is supposed to go from here. Maybe he should just—

“Do you have a Facebook?” Connor asks suddenly. 

Evan furrows his eyebrows. “W-what? Why?” 

Connor closes the sketchbook and throws it on his bed. “My mom was getting on my ass for not being friends with you on Facebook.” 

“Who uses Facebook?”

“Moms,” Connor says flatly. “Wine moms.” 

“Is your mom a wine mom?” Evan asks, looking over his shoulder into the hallway. 

Connor shrugs. “I don’t know what she does all day. She could be a wine mom. Probably needs to be considering  _ I’m _ her son. Anyone would need alcohol to deal with me all the time.” 

Evan snorts. “You aren’t  _ that _ bad.” 

Connor smiles. “Okay. Whatever you say.”

* * *

 

Evan walks to the bathroom, furiously picking at his cast as he tries to keep his steps normal. His heart is racing and everything is wobbly and he feels like he’s about three seconds away from crying or throwing up. Or both. He can never tell. 

He goes to the third floor bathroom. It means climbing the stairs — he hangs onto the railing like a lifeline — but it’s also usually empty. He needs an empty bathroom right now, he can’t lose it around other people, he can’t do that, he can’t be that kid who had a meltdown in front of half the senior class. 

Part of his brain tells him half the senior class can’t fit into the boys’ bathroom. 

The other half is spiraling faster and faster and faster.

He shoves the bathroom door open with his shoulder and stumbles into the handicapped stall as the lights flicker on. At least he knows no one else is in here. 

Evan barely gets the door closed before he’s collapsing against the wall of the stall and sobbing as he tries to catch his breath. His knees are weak and he’s trying not to slide to the floor because it’s the bathroom it’s the fucking boys’ bathroom in a high school it’s probably the most disgusting floor ever but his legs are shaking and his hands are shaking and everything is shaking—

He scrubs away hot tears as they roll down his face. 

_ Fuck _ . 

He doesn’t even know what happened. One minute, he was in english. He wasn’t great but he was okay, and that was normal. And then someone was talking and Evan started getting lightheaded and there was a heavy weight in his chest and he managed to raise his hand and ask to go to the bathroom and sound somewhat normal and leave the classroom sort of calmly but now he can’t breathe he can’t breathe. 

The walls are closing in around him and everything is getting smaller and smaller and crushing him under the weight of the world. Evan can’t do this. He can’t. 

He pulls at the edges of his cast. 

He could’ve— he should’ve—

Evan takes a shuddering breath and presses the base of his good hand against his eye. He wants it to stop he wants it all to stop. 

“Evan?” someone asks softly 

Evan inhales sharply and jerks away from the wall of the stall. He stumbles over his own feet and crashes into the wall, hitting his shoulder hard. “W-what— wh-who?” 

“Uh, it’s just. It’s Connor. Are you…?” he trails off. 

Evan’s breath hitches as he tries to force himself to calm down. He focuses on Connor’s boots, he can see them in the space between the stall doors and the floor. There’s something stuck in Evan’s throat and it’s making it hard to breathe and think. 

“I recognized your shoes,” Connor says after a few seconds. “I was, uh, trying to get out of international relations, cause that class is…bullshit. I hate it.” 

Evan forces a watery laugh. “R-right that’s— I heard it’s-it’s for the uh, the kids who want to take AP Gov but that’s— I can see why you might—” He takes a shallow breath. He can do this he can do this. 

“Hansen, is there anything I can do?” 

Why is Connor even here? Why is he trying to help, why would he want to help a disaster like Evan? A lost cause and constant disappointment who can never amount to anything and will never do anything worth remembering— not worth remembering not worth trying for not worth anything. He’s just an invisible speck lost in a crowd of millions of people and he’s drowning between all of them and can’t keep his head above the water.

“Hey,” Connor says, “is it okay if I touch you?” 

Evan can barely even tell he’s moving, but Connor touches his wrist very softly so he must have nodded or something. Connor gently pulls Evan’s hands away from his face. He doesn’t know how Connor got into the stall but his head is spinning and his thoughts are a muddled mess.

Evan chokes back a sob and blinks away tears as they well up in his eyes and blur his vision. Connor is searching his face with furrowed eyebrows and a concerned look in his eyes and Evan just wants to curl up in a ball and have it all  _ stop _ . 

“What can I do?” Connor asks softly. 

Evan shakes his head. Nothing, there’s nothing. He’s decided he’s okay with everything ending in this bathroom. Because everything hurts and his brain won’t  _ stop _ why won’t it  _ stop _ ?

“Um… _ shit _ . Hold on.” Connor lets go of Evan’s hands and Evan inhales sharply. “I’m-I’m not leaving,” Connor promises. “I’ll be right back.” He unlocks the stall door and Evan focuses on the sound of his boots on the floor because he can still barely breathe and he’s not sure how to hold on to reality.

“Just locked the door,” Connor says, stepping back into the stall. He shuts the door and slides the lock closed. 

Evan takes a deep breath. It catches and it’s shaky and bad, but it’s slow and he needs— he has to slow down his heartrate. He’s supposed to be doing deep breathing exercises, it’s not supposed to get this bad. 

Inhale through the nose for five. Hold for five. Exhale through the mouth for five. 

Evan gets through two cycles before his mind freezes and panics and stops. He takes a few short breaths, gasping for air. 

“You’re— it’s going to be fine,” Connor says. “It’s… There’s only like twenty minutes left of school, Ev. You’re going to be okay.” 

Evan just wants to lay down. To lay down on this disgusting bathroom floor and curl up in a ball and sleep and never wake up. He could just melt into the floor and stop existing and that would be so much better than  _ this.  _ He closes his eyes and tries to focus on breathing a little slower but he can’t, he can’t. 

“Do you…do you want me to leave?” Connor asks slowly. “I can go. I was just trying to get out of class. So I can—” 

“P-please don’t— don’t leave,” Evan chokes out. He reaches out blindly, trying to find Connor with his eyes still squeezed shut.  

Connor takes Evan’s hand and squeezes it lightly. “Yeah, sure. Not going anywhere.” 

Evan just holds on to Connor’s hand and tries to breathe. Tries to find some semblance of calm in his mind. He doesn’t think he ends up being successful, he thinks his brain just got too tired to keep being so anxious. 

When it doesn’t feel like his lungs are getting crushed anymore, Evan loosens his grip on Connor’s hand. “I-I’m s-sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry that you— that you had to deal with me.” 

“I wanted to help,” Connor says. “I promise.” 

Evan can’t meet his eyes. 

“There’s only a few minutes left of class.” Connor takes a step away. “Do you… Are you walking home today?” 

Evan nods. He doesn’t like the bus. It’s still warm enough out that he can walk to and from school. It’s better than being on a loud and crowded vehicle that goes over potholes too fast. 

“Let us bring you home,” Connor says. 

Evan frowns at the floor. 

“Zoe doesn’t have practice today,” Connor explains. “Just… I don’t know, can you let us drive you home? So you don’t have to walk?” 

“I’m— you don’t have to,” Evan mumbles. 

“Yeah, but I’m offering.” 

Evan wants to say no, he really wants to say no. He can’t take advantage of Connor like that. But he also just wants to be at home as soon as possible. “O-okay.” 

“Thank you.” 

Evan glances up at Connor. Connor is running his hand through his hair. 

“I’ll…meet you by your locker?” Connor pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Are you…” 

“I’ll be fine,” Evan says softly. Connor doesn’t look convinced, but Evan doesn’t have the energy to convince him right now. “I’ll… My locker. Yeah.” 

“I’ll see you in…like three minutes,” Connor promises. “You can do a fucking countdown if you want. But I’ll be there. I swear.” 

Evan nods. He digs his nails into the palm of his hand as Connor unlocks the stall and leaves the bathroom. It takes him a few more moments to figure out how to move his legs. 

He still feels slightly off balance and wrong. He takes his time on the stairs, letting the bell ring and students rush around him in a sea of half known faces. He hesitates outside his english room before he ducks inside to grab his backpack. He stammers out an apology to his teacher, saying that he got sick, and she just tells him to feel better and make sure he does the reading for tomorrow. 

He has to climb the stairs again to get to his locker. 

Connor is there, waiting for him, staring off into the distance. As Evan approaches, Connor’s eyes snap to him and he stands up straighter. 

“Zoe’ll meet us by the band room,” Connor explains. He glances from Evan to the lock. “Here I can open it.” He opens the lock quickly and Evan just forces himself to stay standing and breathing. 

Connor takes books from Evan as he pulls them out of his backpack and then closes the locker as Evan puts his backpack on. 

Connor glances around the halls and then takes a few quick steps to the elevator and hits the down button. 

“We-we aren’t supposed to—” 

“Fuck it,” Connor interrupts. “Stairs are bullshit.” 

The elevator doors open and Connor pulls Evan inside, hitting the close doors button until the slide shut. Evan grips the straps of his backpack tightly. If anyone sees them using the elevator without a pass, they could get yelled at. He can’t deal with that today. 

They stop on the ground level and the elevator doors open and Connor takes Evan’s arm and pulls him out of the elevator before reaching in and hitting the close doors button again. “Come on,” he murmurs, leading them toward the music wing. 

Zoe is leaning against the double doors of the band room, a guitar case strapped to her back and her saxophone case at her feet. She looks up from her phone at them. She does a double take when she sees Evan, eyebrows furrowing. 

“Can we go?” Connor asks shortly. 

Any concern vanishes from her face as she rolls her eyes. “It’s going to take us fucking decades to get out of the parking lot at this point but whatever.”

“S-sorry,” Evan mumbles. 

She shoots him a look. “Don’t worry about it, Evan. It’s just— it’s kind of messy getting out of here. It’s not your fault.” She picks up her saxophone cause. “Haul ass, Connor.” 

Connor mutters something under his breath as he follows her. 

Zoe leads them to the back corner of the parking lot where a silver SUV is parked. Evan finds himself thinking that if Connor were allowed to drive, they’d be able to park in the senior lot and would be closer to the school. 

Zoe unlocks the car and looks to Connor and they have some sort of silent conversation before Zoe pops the trunk and loads in her instruments. “Hop in, Ev,” she says. “The car won’t eat you.” She slams the trunk shut. 

Evan pulls open the backseat door and climbs in, dumping his backpack on the floor. To his surprise, Connor slides in on the other side, and not into the passenger seat in front of him. Connor tosses his bag into the passenger seat before buckling in. 

“I’m apologizing now for Zoe’s music choices,” Connor says, leaning closer to Evan. “She’s on an early 2000s kick right now and it’s really fucking annoying.” 

“You’re really fucking annoying,” Zoe says. She pulls the parking pass off the mirror and shoves it into the sunglasses holder. “What’s your address?” she asks Evan as she puts the keys into the ignition. 

“I’ve got it,” Connor says. 

Zoe meets Evan’s eyes in the mirror before shifting the car into reverse. “Okay.” She turns up the music and twists around to wait for an opening in the line of cars waiting to get out of the parking lot. 

Evan blinks in surprise as Check Yes Juliet blasts from the speakers. 

Connor groans. 

“Just help me get out of here, asshat,” Zoe says. 

Connor turns to look out the window. “You’re good with cars coming in.” 

Zoe squints at the line of cars and backs up as soon as the smallest opening appears. Someone behind them honks their horn and Connor just rolls down the window and flips them off.

“And now we wait,” Zoe mutters, once she’s gotten the car into the endless line of other cars attempting to get away from this place. 

“This is why I don’t drive,” Connor grumbles. 

Zoe scoffs. “Okay. Sure.” 

Evan rests his head against the window as they slowly move through the parking lot. 

“Is this Jordin Sparks?” Connor asks when the next song comes on. 

“You might be judging me,” Zoe says, “but  _ you’re _ the one who recognized Jordin Sparks.” 

The car is warm and Evan is so tired that it’s hard to focus. He finds himself thinking that it’s sort of nice that Connor and Zoe are arguing over something so mundane as music, even if that’s just the surface level of a much deeper problem. 

Evan doesn’t fall asleep, but he does drift off. He hears Connor and Zoe talking softly, but doesn’t process any of the words. When the car stops, he blinks slowly and sits up. He squints out the window and at his front door. 

Oh. Cool. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs as he unbuckles his seatbelt and grabs his backpack from the floor. He opens the door and climbs out, careful to find solid footing on the driveway. 

“No problem,” Zoe says with a soft smile. Her eyes dart to Connor. “You staying here?” 

Connor looks at Evan. He raises an eyebrow. 

Evan nods. He doesn’t…he doesn’t think he wants to be alone right now. But Connor doesn’t have to know that. If Connor asks, Evan will just say that it would be weird if Connor left him after being worried or something. Something about friendship. 

“I’ll tell mom,” Zoe says. “Now get your ass out of my car or I’ll drive away with you.” 

“Fuck off,” Connor mutters. 

Evan digs through his bag for his house key as he walks up to the front door. He pulls it out of the pocket and unlocks the door. 

Connor flips Zoe off before stepping inside. Zoe flips him off as she backs down the driveway. 

Evan pulls off his shoes and leaves them by the door. He drops his backpack on the couch as he passes the living room and wanders into the kitchen. He almost forgets Connor is with him until Connor leans against the kitchen table. 

“Are you okay?” he asks softly. 

Evan almost laughs because that really is the  _ worst _ question. Instead, he opens a cabinet and holds out a box to Connor. “Cheez-its?” 

“Did Jared buy these the other day?” Connor asks, taking the box. 

“Uh…yes.” Evan feels his ears burn. “I— He bought a lot of snacks. We, um, still have pizza? If you want any?” 

“Have you eaten today?” Connor asks. 

Evan blinks a few times. “S-sort of? Lunch, I-I had some lunch. You?” 

“Just breakfast.” Connor puts down the Cheez-its. “I’ll take a piece if you do.” 

Evan feels like he might lowkey be being played, but Connor needs to eat. “Okay,” he says. “Want it warm?” 

“Yeah sure.” 

Evan focuses on getting the pizza out of the fridge and onto a plate and then into the microwave. As he watches the pizza slices spin, Connor digs through the kitchen drawers. 

“W-what are you…?” 

Connor holds up a knife and fork victoriously. “We’re good.” 

“Are you… Since when do you eat pizza with silverware?” 

“I’m not a caveman,” Connor says sagely. He reaches past Evan to pull open the microwave door a second before it beeps. 

“You’ve never used it before?” Evan takes the pizza out and takes a slice before handing the plate to Connor. 

Connor snorts and sits down at the table. “You’ve only seen me eat pizza like three times, Hansen. You don’t know me.” 

Evan slowly pulls out a chair as Connor cuts up his pizza. “Yeah but…before you were eating it backwards. Which was— why were you doing that?” 

Connor points his fork at Evan. “Used to make Zoe mad.” 

“I-I guess that’s…valid.” Evan eats his pizza slowly as he watches Connor eat his piece by piece. He doesn’t really understand, but that’s okay. He glances at his half finished piece of pizza before he mumbles, “You don’t…you don’t have to, um, pay me for this.” 

Connor lowers his fork with a weird triangle shaped piece of pizza still on it. “It’s fine, I can still—” 

“No,” Evan interrupts firmly. “I— I wanted you to be here. I asked you to. It was my choice so you— you don’t have to give me anything. That’s… It’s only fair.”

“Are you sure?” Connor asks slowly. 

Evan nods. “If-if you try to pay me, I’ll just give the money to Zoe to sneak into your room. O-or she could just take it. And then there was no point in giving it to me.” 

Connor looks at him with an expression that Evan can’t decipher for a few seconds before shrugging and saying, “Okay” before going back to his pizza. 

Evan isn’t entirely content with the answer but it’ll do for now. 

—«·»—

“Here,” Evan says, taking the remote from Connor and opening Netflix. “Th-there’s never really anything good on TV.” 

“Sweet, thanks.” 

Evan doesn’t really know how they got to this point. They finished eating and Connor offered to leave if Evan wanted him to, but Evan shook his head and then somehow…they ended up on the couch. 

“The Great British Baking Show?” Connor asks, reading the title of the first show under ‘Continue Watching’. 

“Oh, um…” Evan plays with the hem of his shirt. “It’s…a nice show? It’s not— other cooking shows are a lot more stressful? And intense? This one is… It’s a lot nicer. It’s kind of funny and they have nice bakers usually.” 

Connor gives him a half smile. “You like baking?” 

Evan rolls his eyes. “We both know I can’t bake for shit.” 

Connor laughs. “I know, it’s just funny how you like to watch people bake but burn mac n cheese.” 

“I never burned mac n cheese,” Evan mumbles. 

“Do you mind?” Connor asks, gesturing to the screen. 

Evan shakes his head. 

Connor goes to the beginning of the season Evan had open and restarts the first episode. 

“Oh there are going to be lots of measurements that I do not fucking understand,” Connor says. 

Evan smiles and leans back on the cushions of the couch. It’s nice to watch something where he already knows the outcome, and Connor has some pretty amusing commentary to add to the whole thing. It’s kind of funny how fast Connor decides who his favorite and least favorite bakers are. 

As Connor watches a technical challenge where no one has any clue what the hell they’re doing, Evan feels himself drifting off to sleep and he can’t find the energy to stop himself. 

—«·»—

Evan wakes up slowly. His eyelids are heavy— his whole body is heavy, actually. There’s still thick cobwebs of sleep left in his brain that haven’t been dusted away and they’re making it very hard to regain consciousness. This usually happens after really bad days that involve some sort of meltdown, but all it ever does is make Evan want to go back to sleep. 

He turns his head to press his face more into his pillow. Something tickles his nose. Something like…hair? 

Evan groans and sits up, squinting at the bright screen of the television. Connor turns to look at him and gives him a crooked smile. 

Oh.

His pillow had been Connor’s shoulder. 

“S-sorry,” Evan mumbles. 

“It’s fine,” Connor promises. Their arms are still pressed together and Evan really doesn’t care to move right now. “Did you sleep okay?” 

“Fine. Uh…how long was I…?” 

Connor glances to the screen. “Maybe two and a half hours?” Evan’s eyes go wide. “It’s fine, Ev. I’m okay with being used as a pillow. You needed the sleep and I got to get through a few more episodes of the show. Win win.” 

“Win win,” Evan repeats softly. “Do you… Are you leaving soon?” 

“Do you want me to?” Connor asks. 

Evan is a selfish person. He knows exactly what he’s doing. And he hates himself for it. 

“Not yet.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thats a decent amount of money connie boy
> 
> today on what weird way will connor eat pizza is brought to you by flor!! ilysm flor thanks for enjoying connor being a fucking weirdo
> 
> see you next time, whenever the hell that is


	6. $136

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a dear Evan Hansen gay fan fic so if you don't like gay stuff I consider you don't watch it. Boyxboy yaoi don't like don't read
> 
> now that ive officially made any readers who arent my friends close the tab, hey whats up! i was gonna hold back on posting this but im impatient. if you thought this was going to be subtle in any way you should know ive never been subtle a day in my life. please read the end notes chill thank you
> 
>  **warnings:** depression, suicidal thoughts, small mention of blood (in the past)
> 
> enjoy!!

Connor has made a lot of mistakes in his life. Sure, everyone does, but most people aren’t as giant fuck ups as Connor is. 

Right now, at the very top of his ‘what the fuck were you thinking’ list, is letting Evan Hansen fall asleep on him. 

He wouldn’t have pushed Evan off of him or anything like that, he’s not a monster, but  _ god _ . He regrets letting Evan stay like that for almost three hours. Curled up against him and breathing gently and looking all calm and at peace while he slept. His hair had been ridiculously soft and he smelt like pine and— 

Connor covers his face with his hands. 

Evan fell asleep on his shoulder almost two weeks ago and it’s literally occupied so many of Connor’s thoughts that he’s going to scream. 

The universe is really fucking cruel. Of course he’d develop a painful crush on the guy that he’s paying to pretend to be his friend. Hilarious. 

He’s been trying to keep it subtle. Under wraps. Don’t smile too much at Evan. Don’t laugh too much. Don’t touch him. At all. No physical contact at all whatsoever unless Evan initiates it first. 

There has been a few times where Evan has looked up at Connor with a smile and Connor has actually thought he was about to combust. And then he had to go to AP Literature and pretend his heart wasn’t about to explode. 

Alana Beck had given him a weird look when he walked into the room. He’d sat down and buried his face in his arms and pretended he was tired. 

So yeah. Connor might have a minor crush on his fake best friend. No big deal. Shouldn’t be a big deal. He’s had crushes before and handled them fine. This shouldn’t be any different. 

Except it  _ is _ . 

It’s different in every way. He starts every day at Evan’s locker. He eats lunch with Evan if they have the same lunch hour. He smiles at Evan in the hallway and Evan waves at him with a grin that Connor pretends isn’t fake because it hurts less. He ends his day at Evan’s locker. On Wednesdays, they go to the computer lab and print out Evan’s letter for his therapist. They plan their hang outs softly in the hallways, because Larry could still be checking Connor’s messages, even though Connor changes his password every two weeks. Connor texts Evan about anything. Random things. Random facts he finds online that Evan replies to with his own random facts. 

The difference is Evan. 

Evan is so many things. It’s a never ending list that Connor keeps adding to mentally because he loves to torture himself. And it hurts, because he’s so many things that Connor will never actually have in his life. He’s not sure how long he can actually keep up this fake friends thing. Purely because of the money. He’s starting to run out of his own money and has been slipping money from his mom’s purse or Larry’s wallet whenever he gets the chance, but it’s still risky. 

Not that Connor won’t risk it for another few hours with Evan. 

It’s kind of pathetic. It’s definitely pathetic. 

But has Connor ever been anything other than pathetic? 

Connor stares at the ceiling. He couldn’t sleep. And now he’s awake. At four in the morning on a Monday. He’s awake at four in the morning thinking about a boy with a heart stopping smile and a dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose. 

Connor doesn’t actually know if he’s ever been gayer than he is in this exact moment in time. 

Eventually he just gets out of bed because what’s the fucking point of lying around. A tiny part of his mind thinks ‘hey you could do homework right now’. Connor laughs at that part of his brain and grabs a sketchbook off his desk. 

He actually managed to clean up some of his room. Some of his clothes are now in drawers instead of covering his floor. But he has succeeded in finding a bunch of empty sketchbooks, from back when he thought he was going to be drawing a lot more then he ended up doing. 

He might have run out of purple in his watercolor palette, but at least he has about six empty sketchbooks that he can fill with garbage. 

Connor puts in his headphones and sits on the floor, leaning against the edge of his bed, and draws mindlessly. He sort of lets the music inspire him, but he also just draws whatever comes to mind. He vaguely remembers someone once saying that he should draw interactions between people in his sketchbook, so he makes an attempt to not just draw a bunch of busts facing three quarters to the left. 

He finds a random highlighter under his desk. He stares at it for a second before uncapping it and randomly adding neon yellow wherever he feels like it. Because it’s his sketchbook and he can do whatever the fuck he wants. 

He’s still drawing when Zoe appears in his doorway. 

Connor pulls out an earbud and looks up at her. “What?” 

“Was just going to wake you up,” she says flatly. “Guess I don’t have to. Get your ass down to breakfast. We have to leave early today. Band.” 

Connor rolls his eyes and closes his sketchbook. He tosses it on his bed. Whatever. 

—«·»—  


“You okay?” Evan asks when he joins Connor at the locker. 

Connor shrugs. “Tired.” 

“Is that all?” Evan furrows his eyebrows and there’s a crease in his forehead and Connor looks away. 

“Yeah.” He is tired. He can feel his sleep schedule falling out of place, and it’s not just Evan. That’s not a good sign because then he has to reset it and that’s fucking annoying. “Here,” he says, holding out a ten. “My half for the pizza.” 

There’s a second before Evan takes it. “You know I can’t eat all that pizza by myself anyway.” Connor thinks he might be trying for a light tone, but it seems forced. 

Of course it’s forced. They aren’t actually friends, Evan just puts up with Connor. 

Connor clenches his jaw. 

Maybe the first thing on his list of mistakes should be asking Evan Hansen to be his fake friend. 

—«·»—  


Connor leans against Evan’s locker as he waits. Weird how much of his life revolves around Evan now. He’ll decide if that’s healthy or not later. 

“Sup, dude,” Jared says, walking up to Connor. 

Connor nods to him. He’s too tired to deal with Jared, but he’ll do his best. But only for Evan. 

“Seen the acorn?” Jared asks. 

Connor tries not to grimace. “Not since lunch.” 

“Hello.” Alana joins them by the locker. The small hallway is getting crowded. “Are you waiting for Evan?” 

Jared and Connor exchange a glance. 

“Yeah,” Jared says. “How’d you guess?” 

“This is Evan’s locker,” Alana says. 

“Oh.” 

“Why are we waiting for Evan?” Zoe asks. 

Connor rolls his eyes. Where did she come from? “There was no ‘we’ here. It was just me.” He shoots a glare to Jared. 

Jared scoffs. “You can’t hog my best friend.” 

Connor raises his eyebrow. “Best friend?” 

“Am I not bringing you home then?” Zoe asks, crossing her arms. “Because I don’t have rehearsal and I’m not waiting.” 

“I’m good,” Connor says. “I’ll figure something out.” 

Zoe makes a face. “Okay. Have fun.” 

Alana turns and watches Zoe vanish into the crowd of students. “Zoe does a lot.” 

“So do you,” Connor points out. “Did you need Evan?” For some reason, he doesn’t want Alana or Jared here. He wants Evan by himself. Because he’s a selfish asshole. 

Alan shifts uncomfortably. “Not necessarily. I just wanted to say hi.” 

“Hi,” Evan says. 

Connor turns to see Evan behind him. Alana lifts a hand to wave. 

“S-sorry for making you wait,” Evan apologizes. 

Connor steps aside to let Evan into his locker. “It’s fine,” he promises. 

Evan glances to Jared. “Wh-what’s up?” 

“Just checking in on my…bud.” Jared awkwardly punches Evan in the shoulder. 

Evan stares at him. “I’ll tell my mom,” he says after a moment. 

“Cool cool cool chill.” Jared runs a hand over his hair. “Nice.” 

Connor squints at Jared. “Are you having a stroke?” 

Jared flips him off. 

“How— how are you?” Evan asks Alana. “We haven’t, um, really—”

“Talked?” Alana interrupts. She shrugs. “I’m alright. Yourself?” 

Evan glances to Connor. “Okay. Did you— were you just saying hi?” 

Alana rocks back on her heals. “I actually had a question about student council? Or two. Either way it should only be a minute of your time!” 

Evan blinks. “S-student council?” 

She nods. “If you don’t mind! I actually have to run to make a poster but if you want to talk tomorrow—” 

“Talk now,” Jared says, butting in. “I’ve got you, girl, I’m a  _ master _ at illegal photoshop.” He points his thumb at himself. “Tell me what you need and I can get it to you in like fifteen.” 

Alana eyes Jared suspiciously. “Are you sure?” 

Jared scoffs. “Am I sure? Do you even know me?” 

“Yes.” 

Evan bites his lower lip to hold back a smile and Connor has to look away before it makes  _ him _ smile. 

Jared scowls. “Seriously, I’ve got you. It’s not hard, it’s some fucking text and a clipart picture. I’m not busting out inDesign or anything. Chill, talk to Evan, meet me in the computer lab when you’re done.” 

Alana looks at him for a long moment before she says, “Okay. I’m trusting you.” She pulls out a notebook and quickly writes down instructions. Connor watches her write in fascination. He doesn’t pay enough attention in literature to know her handwriting and it’s a lot less neat than he thought it’d be. There’s a dramatic tilt to it and the letters loop and blur together. 

Alana tears the page from her notebook and hands it to Jared. “Do what you can while I talk to Evan,” she says seriously. “Don’t send anything to print until I okay it, besides, we need the vice principal’s signature before we can start hanging these up. Don’t make this harder for me.” 

Jared rolls his eyes and folds up the paper. “I get it I get it. I’m not five. See you losers. And Alana. See you in a bit.” He shoots them finger guns before turning and walking down the hallway toward the computer lab. 

Alana looks at Connor. 

Connor looks back. 

Evan looks at Connor. 

Connor gets the message. 

“See you later, Ev,” Connor says. 

Evan gives him a small smile. “I’ll text you.” 

Connor hums as he walks away, doing a little salute to Alana as he turns. 

Now what the fuck to do? He doesn’t want to go home yet and he doesn’t have a heavy enough jacket to go to the playground. It’s the last week of October and Mother Nature decided a bit of ice was needed before Halloween. The temperature keeps dipping below freezing and it’s some bullshit. 

He glances back over his shoulder to see Evan and Alana at the end of the hallway. Alana is gesturing as Evan nods along. Connor’s stomach twists and bitter thoughts start to cloud his mind, but he shoves them away and focuses on the boringly beige color of the lockers. One after another. Exactly the same. 

He finds his feet bringing him toward the computer lab. Even though it’s Monday, not Wednesday. Even though Jared is there. For some reason, the computer lab is the most comforting place in this dump. 

That’s fucking depressing. 

Connor shoulders the door open. Maybe if he sticks around in here Evan will show up with Alana. Or something. 

So much of his day should not be devoted to thinking about Evan Hansen, but here he is. 

Jared is sitting at one of the computers, bag on the floor and feet up on the table. He has a browser and about thirty tabs open. He chews on a pen as he types. 

Jared glances up at Connor. He lowers the pen. “The fuck do you want?” 

“Bored.” Connor kicks one of the chairs that’s not pushed in. “Why do you care?” 

“Bored without Evan to harass?” Jared mutters. 

Connor furrows his eyebrows. “What the fuck did you just say?” 

“What do you think you heard?” Jared asks. “Cause it’s probably exactly that.” 

Connor scoffs. “Okay. Nice one, douchebag.” 

“Oh, shit, name calling!” Jared spins away from the computer and glares at Connor. “Are we name calling now? Is that what we’re doing?” 

“I’m not harassing, Evan.” Connor crosses his arms. “Can’t say the same for you.” 

Jared rolls his eyes. “I’ve known the guy for like twelve years, I know what the fuck I’m doing.” 

Connor grits his teeth and digs his fingers into his jacket. “Do you? Do you  _ really _ ?” 

“What?!” Jared snaps, standing up. “Do you have something you want to fucking say to me?” 

Connor laughs sharply. “I have a  _ few _ fucking things to say to  _ you _ .” 

“Go for it, _ bro _ ,” Jared throws his arms out, “no one’s going to stop you!” 

“Do you  _ really _ think Evan is your best friend?” Connor is surprised that those are the first words out of his mouth. They taste sour and feel like acid. His insides are being eaten up by vicious venom and he’s drowning in bitterly cold thoughts. 

“I’ve known him since we were  _ five _ ,” Jared says. 

“And I’ve known Zoe since she was fucking  _ born _ ,” Connor snaps. “And she would be happier if I were  _ dead _ so I wouldn’t hold us up as a great example for friendship. That’s not good enough.” 

“Okay, okay!  _ You _ think you’re Evan’s best friend?” Jared counters. “Because that’s  _ bullshit _ . That’s  _ bullshit _ and we both fucking know it. Because I know what  _ this _ is and it’s  _ not _ friendship.” 

It isn’t and that hurts more than anything Jared could ever say to Connor. More than anything  _ anyone _ could say to him. More than things Zoe has yelled at him, more than what Larry has spit. 

More than things Connor has told himself when everything was dark and there was no way out. 

Because it’s so fucking easy to  _ pretend _ . To pretend that this is real and tangible and not— not what it is. Fake. A lie. A fabrication. Something that could be torn apart at any moment. It’s been two months, but it’s nothing more than a web that Connor and Evan have crafted. Nothing actually ties them together. 

Connor is still lost. And Connor is still alone. 

He almost chokes on his words and their bitterness. “You can’t get mad at  _ me _ when all you’ve done for years is be a shitty friend,” he hisses. 

“At least I’m not paying him and pretending!” Jared practically yells. 

Connor digs his nails into the palm of his hand and he is so glad he and Jared are on opposite sides of the room. He has so many things he wants to yell or scream and just eject into the universe. 

None of them can make it to his throat. 

“Oh fuck you,” he snaps, spinning on his heel and storming toward the door. He throws them open and stalks down the hall, trying to breathe and stop the spiraling. 

Before the doors shut, he can hear Jared shout, “Fuck you!” 

—«·»—  


It’s bitterly cold outside and Connor can’t feel his hands. 

He goes to the playground. He sits on the top of the jungle gym and stares at the overgrown field. He remembers when they played bad games of soccer and tripped on the ditches in the grass. He looks at the parking lot. Old and forgotten. Cracked and run down. 

There’s the pothole where Zoe dripped and fell on her face. She bit her bottom lip when she fell and cut up her face and was bleeding everywhere. Connor had been called down to the nurse’s office while the school called their mom because Zoe was hysterical. The blood was actually kind of cool (Zoe would think so too later when she wasn’t in pain) but Connor sat next to Zoe and held her hand while she cried and the nurse cleaned up the blood. 

Connor sighs and pulls his knees up to his chest. 

The more time he spends here — the more time he spends here when he isn’t  _ high _ — the harder it is to not think of the memories. To not think of times when things weren’t constantly garbage. 

Like the sewer grate a few feet away from where Zoe fell. Everyone used to say there was an alligator living down there. Everyone would gather around it and throw rocks inside, any rocks that would fit, to feed the alligator. Because a rock eating alligator living in the sewers made sense to a group of first graders. 

Everything makes more sense when you’re a first grader. You say you’re going to marry someone because your friend wants to marry them and then you get in a fight because you can’t both marry the  _ same person _ and you spill juice all over the place and learn how to add numbers together using shitty timed math tests. 

When Connor was a first grader his biggest problem was usually what his mom packed him for snacks. 

Now it’s a game of ‘is today the day I just fucking jump off a bridge or what?’

Unfortunately, jumping off a jungle gym built for seven year olds probably won’t even break his arm. 

And now he’s back to Evan. 

Connor wants to laugh. Or scream. Or tear his hair out. He is  _ nothing _ to Evan and somehow Evan is almost  _ everything _ to him and that is as fucking pathetic as he can get. 

Instead he just bites down on his wrist. It doesn’t even hurt through his jacket, but it’s something to do. Something other than just—

Screaming on an abandoned playground. 

People don’t typically give a shit but also someone would probably call the cops. 

Jared wasn’t right but he also wasn’t wrong. And Connor wants to violently rip out the part of himself that likes Evan Hansen. The part of him that turns to mush when Evan smiles like that. The part of him that keeps cycling back to Evan’s hair, Evan’s eyes, Evan’s freckles, Evan’s voice, Evan’s laugh— 

Connor wants to destroy the parts of himself that like Evan. 

He would have to destroy all himself. 

He bites down harder on his jacket and tries not to think. Thinking can only hurt more.

* * *

Evan gives Connor a worried look the next day. Connor meets him by his locker, just because it’s what they do. If it were up to him, he would be at home. Asleep. Or in the library. Asleep. Or reading. Or not…here. Not with Evan. With his polos and his smile and his hair and his eyes. 

He got his cast off almost a week ago, but it’s still strange to see Evan with two bare arms. And for Evan to not have Connor’s name scribbled on him like some five year old got a hold of a Sharpie. Connor is both relieved and misses it.

It fucking sucks. But what doesn’t? 

“You didn’t answer my texts last night,” Evan says slowly. “Everything okay?”

“Fine,” Connor grumbles. He lets his hair fall into his face because it means he has to see less of the world. And maybe it looks scarier or something. He wants to be left alone today. “Sorry, I fell asleep.” 

He’s not lying. When his body was so cold that he thought he was going to be unable to move, he climbed down from the top of the jungle gym and walked home. The heat in the house made his skin tingle as he warmed up and his mom tried to talk to him but he just shook his head and went up to his room. He pushed everything but his comforter off his bed and went to sleep. He woke up around eleven, made a quesadilla in the microwave, ate it, watched YouTube for four hours, woke up, and stumbled into the car so Zoe could drive him to school. 

It hadn’t really occurred to him to check his phone. Wasn’t like he had friends or anything. 

Evan chews on his lip. “Okay,” he says softly. “Just like… Um, talk to me? If you need to?” 

Connor meets Evan’s eyes and his heart leaps to his throat. Evan needs to stop…all of that. Especially the concerned look in his eyes, like he cares. 

Evan is a good actor. 

—«·»—  


They have lunch hour together on Tuesdays. Usually Connor sits with Evan. 

His head won’t stop spinning. 

He hides in the back of the library and tries to do the assignment for literature. He reads the same paragraph four times before he buries his face in the pages. Hot tears prickle the corner of his eyes. 

Fuck. 

He should’ve skipped. He should’ve stayed home. He should’ve done anything else. Other than be here. This is bad, school is bad. The only thing worth it would be Evan, but he’s avoiding Evan because his mind is awful but his mind is right. 

Alana gives him a worried look when he sits down in literature. Their class only has fourteen kids, but he still sits in the back in silence unless the teacher asks him specifically a question. 

Today, Connor changes his seat.

He sits in the back corner. More isolated than usual. His head hurts, probably because he forced himself not to cry because he hates crying, and his brain keeps twisting into something darker and darker. 

He looks up from his arms when a book is put down on the desk next to him. 

Alana doesn’t say anything. She just puts her backpack down on the floor and spreads out her pens before she opens her notebook up. 

Connor watches her write in her tilted looping letters for a moment before he puts his head back down. 

—«·»—  


Zoe has rehearsal. Connor walks home. 

He doesn’t stop at Evan’s locker. He should. He really fucking should. 

If anyone talks to him he’s going to snap. He’s going to break and yell and— he can’t. 

He has a plan for when he gets home. Steal a loaf of bread from the kitchen. Maybe the butter. Go up to his room. Sit in bed and eat bread. Pass out. Wake up whenever. Eat. Go back to bed. School? Whatever. 

His mom isn’t in the kitchen when he unlocks the door. Good. He grabs the least offensive loaf of bread from the cabinet and a random third of a stick of butter from the last time Cynthia baked and a butter knife from the drawer. He climbs the stairs silently and goes to his room and wishes that he had a door. He pulls out his laptop and opens a random YouTube video and lets it fade into background noise as he eats bread. 

Fucking life. 

He’s on his third slice when the doorbell rings. Connor looks down at his bed and accepts his fate of a lifetime of crumb filled sheets. The doorbell rings again. 

“Mom?” he shouts. 

There’s no response and the doorbell rings  _ again _ . 

“We fucking get it,” Connor mutters. He puts down the knife on his desk and climbs out of bed. He takes his time getting to the front door, hoping whoever is there will just go the fuck away. He frowns when he sees Zoe in the window. She meets his eye and flips him off. 

“What did you forget your keys?” Connor asks as he opens the door. 

“No, dumbass, but you forgot your friend.” Zoe jerks her thumb over her shoulder toward her car. Evan is standing by the passenger side door. “Nice going, dipshit,” she mutters shouldering him roughly as she passes him to get into the house. 

Connor glances over his shoulder at her before looking back to Evan. 

Evan is just staring at him. He doesn’t look like he’s going to move any time soon. 

Conor sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Okay. Okay. 

He pulls on his shoes and shouts to Zoe that he’s leaving the door open. She just sort of yells back at him and he figures that’s enough. Then he steps outside and walks toward Evan and, probably, death. 

“What’s wrong?” Evan says as soon as Connor gets close. 

“Nothing is wrong,” Connor says. 

Evan scowls. “I— Come on, I know you better than that by now. We’re— We’ve…” He shakes his head. “I-I thought about it. A lot. I was worried I did something wrong. I went through everything I’ve done in the past two days— the past  _ week _ . A-and I had nothing. You’ve been acting— Alana came to me asking how you were because of something that happened in lit so just…” He glares at Connor. Connor’s been trying so hard to not think about his eyes. “I told you to talk to me.” 

“You aren’t my therapist, Ev,” Connor mutters. “You don’t need to hear this shit.” 

“I’ll tell you if I can’t handle it,” Evan says with more confidence behind his words than Connor thinks he’s heard before. “But I told you to talk to me and you— you’re just isolating yourself. That’s not going to help.” 

Connor tugs a hand through his hair. “Seriously it’s just— it happens sometimes. It’s not a big deal we don’t have to make into one.” 

Evan crosses his arms. “Okay. Fine. If something is wrong, just tell me that. Tell me things are shitty. That’s  _ all _ you have to say, because I get it. Tell me when you aren’t okay, don’t just be a dick.” 

That’s a hell of a promise to make but… “Okay.” 

Evan nods and pulls his backpack on. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I just… Figured we should talk than sooner than later.” 

Connor looks from the car to Evan. “Do you…need a ride home?” 

“I can walk,” Evan says. “I have sch-scholarship essays waiting at home for me. I’m not in a rush.” 

“You wouldn’t be bothering Zoe,” Connor says softly. “I’ll take you.” 

“I thought…” Evan trails off. 

“I know where my license is. Larry isn’t as good at hiding things as he thinks.” Connor turns back to the house. “Stay here, I’ll be back in a minute.” 

Connor ducks back inside the house. “Zoe I’m stealing the car!” he shouts, grabbing her keys from the bowl by the door. 

“ _ What _ ?!” 

He goes back to Larry’s office and digs through the files in the bottom desk drawer until he pulls his license from a manila folder. 

Zoe stands at the front door with her arms crossed over her chest. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m driving Evan home.” Connor tries to push past her, but Zoe pushes right back. 

“You aren’t  _ allowed _ to drive.” 

Connor holds up his license. “Get fucked.” 

She narrows her eyes at him. “Did you break into Dad’s office?”

“There was no  _ breaking _ and I live in this house, so move and let me take Evan home.” Zoe stands her ground. “I’m not high, Zo. And I know how to fucking drive. It’ll be fifteen minutes, the world won’t end.” 

Zoe closes her eyes. “I… Just pay attention. Be safe. Don’t crash or anything.” 

“Yeah yeah I’ll protect the car,” Connor mutters. “Stop being Mom.” 

Zoe grimaces. “Okay. Drive him home. Whatever.” She steps to the side. “Not my fault if Dad grounds you for life.” 

“Who cares.” Connor closes the front door on her. Evan looks up from his phone as the door slams shut. Connor holds up the keys. “Get in.” 

“When was the last time you drove?” Evan asks, climbing into the passenger seat. 

“God it’s been months.” Connor opens the door. He’s going to have to adjust the seat and mirrors and that’s going to piss Zoe off big time. “It’s probably like riding a bike or something.” 

Evan nods slowly. “Okay… I think that’s reassuring?” 

Connor rolls his eyes as he moves back the seat. “I’m not going to crash.” 

“I didn’t think you would,” Evan says honestly as Connor buckles in and starts the car. “The biggest thing I’m worried about is you hitting a curb or forgetting the turn signal.” 

“Fuck turn signals.” Connor flicks the turn signal down before he turns right out of the driveway. “Shit.”  

Evan laughs. 

Unlike Zoe, Connor doesn’t always listen to music when he drives. He’s perfectly fine driving in silence, even though it makes her want to scream. She hated it when he drove in silence, making it a point to always have headphones on her in case he had a day where he wanted to drive without music on. 

It gives Connor time to think. Sometimes that’s harder with music on. 

As they sit in almost weirdly comfortable silence, Connor glances at Evan out of the corner of his eyes. Evan is playing with the hem of his shirt and staring ahead at nothing. 

Connor sighs. “I’m sorry. For today. And yesterday.” 

Evan glances over to him. “…thank you. It’s…okay. I just want to know if you’re okay.” 

For some reason it’s hard to swallow. Connor clears his throat. “So did you bribe Zoe into giving you a ride?” 

“I-I stayed after for a little bit to talk to Alana,” Evan murmurs. “And then we passed the band room and I saw Zoe, s-so I thought…” He shrugs. “She might’ve thought it was weird but she was fine with it.” 

“She wasn’t too much of an ass, right?” 

“What do you mean?” 

Connor adjusts his grip on the steering wheel. “You know… She didn’t ask too many questions or anything?”   

Evan shifts uncomfortably. “I-I mean… She was— it was fine.” 

Connor decides he’ll interrogate Zoe later. “Cool. How’s Alana?” 

“Very busy,” Evan says seriously. “More student council stuff.” 

“She trying to recruit you?” 

“Uh…not  _ exactly _ .” Connor raises his eyebrows as Evan worries his bottom lip. “She had an idea for a club she wants to start next semester and uh…wants my help with it.” 

“You?” Evan winces. “Shit, no, I didn’t mean it that way,” Connor backtracks. “I just…you don’t do many extracurriculars or anything so it’s a surprise. Does she want  you on the board or something?” 

“Yes.” Evan coughs. “She… Yeah it’s, um, I-I don’t know if I’ll do it yet but I… Helping her start it up? I can do that. That doesn’t require much so I’m…okay with that.” 

Connor nods. “Cool. I hope it’s…fun.” He ignores the twisting in his gut.   

“Did Alana talk to you?” Evan asks suddenly. 

Connor glances to him before looking back to the road. “No? Why?” 

“Oh she just…” Evan gestures with one of his hands. “At the beginning of the school year we were talking about something and she wanted to talk to you about something and she said she was going to— I mean she had a question for you and I told her that maybe it wasn’t the best idea and, well I mean, she said she was going to ask you anyway so I just wasn’t sure if she ever did or…” 

“She didn’t,” Connor says slowly. “What was the question?” He remembers Alana asking him all sorts of questions when he came back to school after his attempt. He also remembers ignoring them. He’s pretty sure there were a few times when he just walked away. 

Evan goes quiet. Connor stops at a stop sign and looks both ways, pausing for longer than he usually would because drivers on this road don’t give a fuck. 

“She wanted you to tell the student body your story,” Evan blurts out. 

Connor is really glad they’re at a stop sign. “What?!” 

Evan pulls on the collar of his shirt. “She— Um, she asked if you would be, or if I might be interested in um— Because of the stigma around mental health and suicide that maybe it would— I told her no.” 

Connor closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Thank you,” he says after a moment. He opens his eyes and looks to Evan. “Seriously. I don’t… No one else needs to know that shit. My story— no one wants to hear that shit.” 

“I think that was her point,” Evan says softly. 

Connor meets his eyes for a second and then looks back to the road, pressing the gas. “Not my story,” he repeats. “I don’t want or need that kind of attention.” 

“I know.” Evan sighs. “I was really worried that she— Alana can be, um…persistent.”

“Tell me about it,” Connor mutters. He turns into Evan’s driveway. “Here you go, Hansen.” 

Evan gives him a weak smile and unbuckles his seatbelt. “Thanks. I’ll text you.” 

“I’ll text you back,” Connor promises. 

Evan lights up and Connor shoves his heart back into the darkness of his chest.

* * *

**From: dickbag** **  
****To: assface** **  
**      we have to talk 

**From: assface** **  
****To: dickbag** **  
**      fuc k u

Connor rolls his eyes. He can’t even believe he’s  _ trying _ but he  _ is _ and Jared is being  _ Jared _ . 

**From: dickbag** **  
****To: assface**   
     right back at you   
     but seriously. today

He leans against Evan’s locker, flipping his phone over in his hands as he waits for a response.  _ He _ might not give a shit about Jared, but for some reason  _ Evan _ does, so he’s going to try to fix this. Because that’s what a good person would do. 

Connor’s lived too much of his life in the gray zone. Gray thoughts, gray clothing, gray morality— he can do one nice thing if it’ll make Evan happier. 

**From: assface** **  
****To: dickbag** **  
**      y should i

**From: dickbag** **  
****To: assface** **  
**      evan

**From: assface** **  
****To: dickbag** **  
**      fuck off   
     where?? 

Connor rolls his eyes. 

“Hi,” Evan says, arms full of textbooks. “Band?” 

Connor nods. “Yeah. Something about an audition or something? I don’t know, she wanted time in the practice rooms and I don’t have a say in anything.” 

Evan gives him a crooked smile. “I don’t think being here a little early is too bad.” 

Connor looks back down at his phone with a shrug. 

**From: dickbag** **  
****To: assface** **  
**      computer lab   
     evan will be there for a little bit we can talk after he leaves

**From: assface** **  
****To: dickbage** **  
**      fine   
     but still fuk u 

Connor really should’ve just blocked Jared’s number as soon as he got it. 

—«·»—  


“Jared!” Evan says in surprise when him and Connor walk into the computer lab. “W-what are you doing here?” 

Jared looks up from the computer. “StuCo stuff for Lana. I guess this morning the council decided to change some of the info on the posters so,” he gestures to the screen, “here the fuck I am.” 

“Doesn’t Alana have people for that?” Connor asks as Evan pulls out his laptop. 

“Her people don’t do shit. Does this picture look bad?” 

Connor squints at the screen. “It looks like bad clipart.” 

“Perfect.” Jared saves the document. 

“Sent,” Evan says. He shuts his laptop. “I’ll be right back.” 

Connor nods to him. 

Jared coughs awkwardly as Evan leaves for the printers. 

When Evan comes back with his letter in his hands, he glances between Jared and Connor. “Everything…okay?” 

“Super chill,” Jared confirms, clicking randomly on the poster. 

“Jared is shit at choosing fonts,” Connor says. 

Jared flips Connor off and Evan smiles. Win. 

“I have to go,” Evan says, putting away his laptop and pulling on his backpack. “My, um, my mom is actually bringing me today so?” He gestures over his shoulder. “Yeah. I’ll talk to you later.” 

“Whatever,” Jared says. 

Connor glares at him before saying, “Yeah sure. I’ll text you.” 

Evan bounces on his toes before he leaves the room. 

Connor turns to Jared with a raised eyebrow. “Fucking smooth.” 

Jared keeps his eyes on the screen. “Uh huh.” 

“You’re a giant asshole, you know that, right?” 

Jared pushes his glasses up his nose. “So are you.” He closes his illegal photoshop and spins to face Connor. “Here we are. Two assholes in a computer lab.” 

They stare at each other for a long minute. 

“You told me to be here,” Jared points out. 

“Fuck, you’re right,” Connor mutters. “Okay. I’m..sorry.” Jared whistles. “Shut the fuck up. I’m not sorry I called you a dick because you are a dick. And you’re a bad friend. Like a really shitty one. But I’ll apologize for yelling.”  

“That was a horrible apology,” Jared muses. “But fine. I’m sorry I said you were harassing Evan. But I still think what you’re doing is fucking…bad? I don’t know it feels bad. It’s a bad plan.” 

“You told us that and still helped.”  

Jared spins in the chair before standing up. “Okay, yeah. I did. But honestly I didn’t think either of you would get invested and—” 

“What do you mean?” Connor interrupts. 

Jared searches his face. “You know…?” 

“No?” 

He sighs. “I thought this shit would last like a week, okay? And now we’re getting into more long term usage instead of the eight days I had assumed.” He pauses. “You’re using him.” 

“Yeah and you pretend to use him.” Connor crosses his arms. “Are we really so fucking different?” 

Jared runs his hand through his hair. “Just two guys, being dicks to Evan Hansen. We should probably be better about that, huh?” 

“Probably.” Connor holds out his hand to Jared. “Truce?” 

Jared raises an eyebrow. “Not friends?” he asks as he shakes Connor’s hand. “Okay. Truce.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so the jared connor thing was supposed to last longer but 1. no one needed that and 2. theres a time jump before the next connor chapter and i didnt want it lasting that long. 
> 
> also!! (this is what i wanted you to read) i tried very hard to make it clear that connors not in a bad place JUST because of evan. sometimes one not great thing will happen and then everything is bad and life falls to pieces. i dont know if i showed that very well but...ive been writing this while in a really weird spot so i dont think im really showing ANYTHING well at the moment
> 
> anyway i love zoe and if youre american, happy early thanksgiving!! im thankful for connor murphy


	7. $146

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A realization or two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise! update!! woo!!!! happy thanksgiving to any americans out there, happy thursday to everyone else~
> 
> i'm a bit behind on nano so i'm scrambling to catch up WHILE writing 4 essays, a short story, and emails to several colleges. i'm also catching up on readings for 4 classes and researching transferring. it's wild folks
> 
> btw this happens the DAY AFTER the last chapter. cool thanks
> 
>  **warnings:** discussion of self harm. from "“Oh.” Evan picks at his nails" to "Evan finds himself drifting off in classes". some discussions of mental health
> 
> enjoy!!

Evan thinks Connor might be asleep when he walks up to his locker. Connor is sitting on the ground against the lockers with his legs pulled up to his chest, his bag on his knees, and his head on his bag. 

Evan checks his phone. They still have about fifteen minutes until class starts. If Connor is asleep he should just let him sleep. Connor probably needs it. 

Evan rocks back on his heels as he unlocks his locker. Today should be an easy day— the beginning of the week had been rough, so hopefully he won’t have too much work in class. Which will be nice. He needs time to think. 

He’s honestly a little worried about Connor and Jared. And Connor individually — he spends a lot of time worrying about Connor if he’s honest — but there had been something off about the way they had looked at each other in the computer lab the day before. 

Evan can’t put his finger on what it is and it’s stressing him out. 

He unlocks his lock and swings his locker open, careful to not hit Connor. He loads and unloads books from his backpack as quietly as he can. As the textbooks move from the locker to his hands, he plans out his day and his moves, his paths to class, where he’ll sit at lunch, who he’ll talk to. 

“Ev?” Connor mumbles, voice hoarse. 

Evan closes his locker a bit to glance down at him. “Did I wake you?” Evan asks softly. 

Connor squints at him. “Was I asleep?” 

Evan laughs. “L-let’s say yes, then.” He offers Connor his hand, Connor reaches up with his right hand and then stops before he can take Evan’s. He tries to pull it back, but Evan grabs his wrist. Connor’s knuckles are wrapped in white athletic tape. 

“What happened?” Evan asks, watching Connor’s face as he holds his hand, trying not to hurt him.

Connor looks at his hand. “Car door. Bad timing.” 

Evan stares at the bandages. “Did it hurt?” 

Connor gives him a flat look. “Seriously?” 

“Okay, yeah. I don’t know why I asked that.” Evan holds out his other hand. Connor takes it with his good hand and pulls himself to his feet. Connor pulls away to brush his hair out of his eyes and Evan pretends not to notice how empty his hand feels without Connor’s in it. 

—«·»—  


Evan frowns at his phone when he checks it as he’s leaving the room for lunch. He hangs back by the doorway and responds to Connor’s texts. 

**From: Connor** **  
****To: Evan** **  
**      meet me in the library during your lunch?    
     please? 

**From: Evan** **  
****To: Connor** **  
**     Dont you ha ve lit???

Connor responds quickly, which is a relief. Not waiting is good. It’s better, at least. Evan leans against the lockers. 

**From: Connor** **  
****To: Evan** **  
**      yeah   
     second lunch v your third i know   
     but teach is out were in the library   
     p lease? 

Evan chews on his lip. It’s not like he has friends at this lunch, or any lunch. He was just going to sit by himself and eat bad cafeteria food. Today is bad pasta. 

He decides he’s not that hungry. 

**From: Evan** **  
****To: Connor** **  
**      Im on my way 

—«·»—  


The first person Evan sees when he gets to the library is Alana. Unlike her other classmates, one is sprawled out on a couch while two are squished in a single chair and another is laying on their stomach on the floor, she’s sitting at a table surrounded by books. She has a notebook in front of her filled with notes and has her tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth as she highlights a passage in the book she’s reading. 

“A-Alana?” he asks softly. 

She straightens and spins around, eyes wide. “Evan!” She brightens and adjusts her glasses. “How are you?” 

“Um…okay? I’m looking for Connor, actually?” 

She nods. “I assumed.” Evan doesn’t know why but she’s talking again before he can ask. “He’s between the biographies and the classics.” 

Evan blinks. 

She smiles. “Back corner over there,” she gestures. 

“Oh, thanks.” 

“Of course.” Evan has only taken a few steps when she stops him. “Wait.” 

Evan’s heart skips a beat as he turns back to her. “Y-yeah?” 

Alana glances away for a second before she sets her jaw and meets his eyes. “Tell me if he’s okay?” 

Evan nods slowly. “Y-yeah I can— yeah. I will.” 

She sighs a little. “Thank you.” 

Evan ducks his head and slips into the shelves. 

Connor is sitting on the sill of a window. Whoever designed the library decided that not only should the large windows have benches under then, the windowsills should also be large enough to sit on. Evan remembers when him and Jared had a history class together freshman year and when him and Jared were supposed to be studying for a final, Jared had laid down on a windowsill and taken a nap. 

Connor’s chin is on his knees and he’s staring out the window into the parking lot. 

Evan clears his throat to make his presence known. 

Connor looks to him and then pats the windowsill. Evan puts his bag down on the bench and then climbs up on the windowsill, crossing his legs. 

“W-what’s up?” he asks after a moment, realizing Connor wasn’t willing to be the first one to say something. 

Connor breathes slowly. “I lied to you.” 

Evan’s chest is immediately being crushed. His lungs have stopped working and his heart is in his throat. “What— Connor, wh-what do you—?” 

Connor holds up his hand. “It wasn’t a car.” The bandages look even whiter in the light from the window. 

“What did yo— what happened?” 

He looks out over the parking lot again. “I punched a wall.” 

“What?!” 

Connor locks eyes with Evan. “I…” He furrows his eyebrows and holds up his hand, staring at his knuckles. “I punched a wall. I just… I punched a wall.” He snorts. “I punched a  _ wall _ .” 

Evan watches with wide eyes as Connor buries his face in his knees and his shoulders shake as he tries to muffle his laughter. Evan can still barely breathe. 

“C-Connor? Are you…?” he trails off. Connor’s not okay. That’s obvious. That’d be a silly question to ask. Evan can’t keep asking questions like that.

Connor stills after a few more moments. He inhales sharply and the exhales with a huff. He looks up at Evan with hair in his face. “I punched a wall, Ev,” he whispers. 

Evan rubs the fabric of his shirt between his fingers. “Y-yeah you— I guess you…you did.” 

“God.” Connor runs his good hand through his hair. “God what the  _ fuck _ .” 

“Y-you are— I mean, only you would kn-know that.” Evan ducks his head. 

“It was like two this morning,” Connor says slowly. “And I was in the basement and I just. I don’t know. I punched the wall.” 

“How didn’t you— you didn’t break anything?” Evan focuses on Connor’s boots in front of him. 

“I know how to punch,” Connor says. Evan raises his eyebrows. “Mom put Zoe and I in martial arts when we were kids. Something about excess energy and learning to protect ourselves.” 

“I didn’t know that,” Evan murmurs. 

“Yeah, stopped when I was like ten. Guess someone thought the kid with anger problems maybe shouldn’t do something with so much kicking and hitting.” 

Evan frowns. “W-wait that’s— shouldn’t that be? The other way around?” 

Connor shrugs. “Larry made the choice. Less to pay for, I guess. Zoe stopped around the same time. But I know how to throw a punch.”

“Oh.” Evan picks at his nails. “When… This morning, when you,” he gestures to Connor’s hand, “were you trying to…” He can’t find the words. 

“Hurt myself?” Connor asks softly. 

Evan closes his eyes and nods. 

He hears Connor sigh. “I don’t know. I can’t really…explain what was going through my head. Maybe a little. It wasn’t…the main… Fuck, I don’t know how to talk about this shit.” Evan opens his eyes to see Connor repeatedly dragging his hand through his hair. “I mean…I have.” 

Evan swallows. “Y-you…” 

Connor meets Evan’s gaze. He wraps his good hand around his right forearm. “Yeah. Not lately but, um… Yeah. Yeah.” 

Evan takes a shaky breath. “Oh.” He squeezes his eyes shut tightly a few times. “I-I mean, I’ve— I’ve thought about it. A lot. Too much? Maybe? Be-because I can— there are r-razors. In my house. Or they’re— They aren’t hard to-to get. But then I… I start worrying? Because what if— what if I do it wrong? Or mess up? Or hurt myself more than I mean to? Or someone asks me about it or my mom comes home and sees me doing it or I fuck up or or—” 

“Evan,” Connor interrupts gently. His hand is hovering over Evan’s. “Take a breath with me, okay?” 

Evan nods and takes a slow breath. Connor’s hand rests on Evan’s once he’s stopped fiddling with the hem of his shirt. 

“You okay?” Connor asks. 

Evan nods. “I just…” He laughs weakly. “Shoutout to my anxiety for keeping me from hurting myself more, I-I guess it’s good for…for something.”  

Connor smiles a little, eyebrows furrowed. “Sure.” 

Evan looks down at Connor’s sleeve covered arms. “You would…” He glances up to Connor. “You would tell me if you…wanted to hurt yourself? Right?” 

Connor searches Evan’s face. Panic flashes in Evan’s mind and he wonders if he’s gone too far. “I… Yeah. And you’ll tell me?” 

“O-of course.”   

—«·»—  


Evan finds himself drifting off in classes. He tries to focus, but his heart isn’t into it today. 

He’d sat with Connor for the rest of lunch, mostly in silence. Connor had promised that he’d cleaned his knuckles after admitting that he had broken skin when he punched the wall. When Evan asked if anyone in his family knew the truth, Connor laughed. 

It made Evan’s chest hurt. 

He wishes there were more times where Connor genuinely laughed. Where he didn’t force it. Where it wasn’t bitter. 

Evan wishes that Connor were happier. 

Evan finds it a little harder to breathe when he realizes that he wants to be Connor’s friend for  _ real _ . He’s wanted to be for a while, but he doesn’t think about it because it’s painful. Because Connor just needs him for now. Evan is a temporary fixture in Connor’s life. And he hates that. 

It’s so bullshit. That the first person that Evan’s felt a real connection with in years is just playing a game. And Evan is playing along. Because it’s what Connor wants. And it makes Connor’s life easier. 

Evan doesn’t think that’s enough. 

But this is all he gets. And this is all he can do. So he will settle. 

—«·»—  


Evan finds Alana in the library. It’s almost like she never left after literature. She doesn’t even look up when he sits down across from her. 

“He’s okay,” Evan says. 

Alana looks up and relief floods her face. “Good,” she says, immediately looking back down at her laptop. “I was… He can be hard to read.” Evan nods. “Yesterday I could tell which…I assume that meant something bad?” She gives Evan a questioning look. 

“Um…” Evan looks away. “I-I…not great. No.” 

Alana purses her lips and then closes her laptop. “Admittedly, I don’t actually have much to talk about today. We do need to find a teacher to advise us. Which could be interesting. They have to be trustworthy. And we need to know that they’ll be supportive of discussions of mental health, which is difficult because it’s not exactly discussed often in the classroom.” 

Evan nods. “Wh-what about a name? You said something about one last time.” 

“Yeah…” Alana taps a pen against the desk. “I can’t think of one. We’ll work on it?” 

He shrugs. “S-sure. It’s your club.” 

“And yours,” Alana adds immediately. “You’re a co-founder.” 

“Uh…sure. We can…call me that. You can call me that.” 

She gives him a small smile. “Seriously, Evan. Thank you for helping me.”   

Evan ducks his head. “N-no problem. Um, what are you reading in lit right now? You seemed, uh, invested when I saw you today?” 

Alana blinks, probably in surprise. They haven’t really talked about anything other than Student Council and the club before. “Oh. Beowulf.” 

“Beowulf,” Evan repeats. 

“Yes! It’s,” she grabs her bag off the chair next to her and unzips it, “an epic poem. It’s in Old English and it’s about this hero named Beowulf.” She pulls out her copy of the book and opens it up to show Evan. “The left pages are the original Old English and the right are the modern translations.” 

Evan squints at the Old English. “I thought you said it was English.” 

Alana laughs. She has a nice laugh, Evan hasn’t heard it before. To be fair, he’s never had a non serious conversation with her. “It is. But it took a while for English to become what it is today. This was written in…” She flips the book over. “Around 700? So there was this and then there was Middle English—” 

“Like Shakespeare?” Evan asks. He knows Shakespeare. He can read Shakespeare. Sort of.

Alana shakes her head. “No, like Chaucer.” She grins at Evan’s blank expression. “He wrote the Canterbury Tales. I think Shakespeare is Early Modern English or something.” 

“Right,” Evan says. “Right. I… Okay.”  

Alana rests her chin in her hand. “You have no idea what I’m talking about do you?” 

Evan gives her a weak smile. “I have a vague idea? How do you just…know this?” 

“Mr. Adams told us about it when we started reading.” She flips through the pages of Beowulf. “It was pretty easy to remember because it was interesting. Etymology is fascinating.” She glances up to see Evan’s confusion. “The study of the origin of words.” 

“Ah.” Evan watches her pause on a page and scrunch up her nose as she reads a passage. “You’re really smart.” 

“Oh. Thank you.” Alana sits up a little straighter. “I guess— I’m pretty good at school, yes. English isn’t that hard. You just have to understand words and then make arguments.”

“I’m not good at either of those things,” Evan admits.

“It takes some practice,” Alana says. “I could help you if you ever need it. Or— Connor could?” 

“He could?” Evan asks. 

“When he pays attention, he’s really good at english,” she says. “He does really well on his papers, and he doesn’t participate a lot, but he has interesting things to say when he does.” She wrinkles her nose. “We talked about phallic symbolism for three days after finishing this,” she taps her knuckles on the cover of Beowulf, “and Connor had…a few things to say.” 

Evan covers his mouth to muffle a laugh.  

“It was an…interesting conversation,” Alana says slowly. “The vice principal wanted to observe one of the classes and Mr. Adams lied and said we were just going to be doing silent reading all class so she wouldn’t. And then he showed us an academic essay about the phallic symbolism in Beowulf.”

“Oh my god,” Evan says, voice muffled by his hands. 

Alana smiles and puts Beowulf back in her bag. “It’s a strange class.” 

“It sounds fun.” Evan drops his hands to his lap. “We’re reading short stories and it’s bad.” 

“Short stories can be…odd,” she says after a moment. “Who do you have?” 

“Parsons.” 

Alana grimaces. “I’m so sorry.” 

Evan shrugs. “It hasn’t been…the worst? She argued with a student for most of a class about using they as a singular pronouns in an essay and says some things mildly racist, but I’ve heard pretty bad stories, so we’re okay right now.” 

“She was awful,” Alana says flatly. “I had her for the second semester of sophomore year and I almost walked out several times. She had us do Shakespeare in a circle and would complain when we didn’t actually act out the parts.” 

“It’s english class?” 

“ _ Exactly _ .” 

—«·»—  


**From: Connor** **  
****To: Evan** **  
**      you free today?    
     not dinner

**From: Evan** **  
****To: Connor** **  
**      Yeah I was  j sut going to sit aroudn my room

**From: Connor** **  
****To: Evan** **  
**      wanna do that but in a different house?

**From: Evan** **  
****To: Connor** **  
**      Sure! Be over in a bit ??

“Evan!” Evan looks up from his phone to see Zoe waving at him. She’s standing by the band room with a bunch of other students, her saxophone still around her neck. 

He stops as she walks over to him. “H-hi, are you done with rehearsal?”

She blows hair out of her face. “Not yet. We’re on break.” 

“This isn’t jazz band,” Evan says slowly, looking at her alto. 

Zoe laughs. “No, this is wind ensemble.” 

“We have that?” Evan asks in surprise. 

“This year.” She presses a few of the keys. “Do you know if Connor ate today?” she asks suddenly. 

“W-we didn’t have lunch together,” Evan apologizes. Zoe’s eyebrows furrow. “But if you want to— Alana Beck? They have that class together so she might…know.” 

“Okay. What about you?” 

Evan frowns. “Wh-what about me?” 

“Did you eat?” She narrows her eyes. 

He clears his throat and looks away. “S-something, uh, came up.” Zoe looks unamused. “I’ll eat,” he promises. “Soon.” 

“Okay.” Zoe glances over her shoulder. The other musicians are still mulling around the band room. “I should—” 

“Wait,” Evan interrupts, voice cracking. Zoe freezes. “Do you… Did you see Connor’s hand?” 

She huffs and shifts her weight from foot to foot. “Yeah. Slammed it in a car door. He was probably high or something. The least he could’ve done was tell me he was taking the car before he did.” 

Evan feels like his throat is closing up. “Z-Zoe? Can you— can you keep a secret?” 

She frowns. “A sec— what’s wrong?” 

“Can you?” he repeats, meeting her eyes. 

Zoe nods slowly. “Yeah, of course. Evan, you’re kind of scaring me.” 

“He didn’t— Connor didn’t close a door on his hand.” Evan’s legs feel shaky. This is bad, maybe— this was a bad idea. But at the same time, he can’t be the only one who knows. He feels like he’s going to be sick. 

Zoe’s eyes go wide. “What did he do?” she asks. She asks so softly that Evan almost doesn’t catch her words. 

Evan pulls on the straps of his backpack. “A wall. The basement. He punched the wall in the—” 

“He punched the wall?!” she hisses. “Those are— Evan, those are concrete! What was he thinking— he could’ve broken his hand, why didn’t he— What the fuck was he—” 

“Zoe—” 

“And then he  _ lied _ about what he did? Was he just going to let us think that he wasn’t paying attention for the rest of time? Was he going to—” 

“I-I don’t think this was a thing he thought through,” Evan interrupts. 

She sags. “You’re right.” She tucks her hair behind her ear. “I shouldn’t have— sorry.” 

“You…you won’t tell your parents? Right?” Evan rocks back on his heels. If Zoe tells her parents and her parents talk to Connor— or even if just she talks to Connor… 

Connor will hate him.

Zoe sighs. “No. No, I won’t. Because he told you and he…he trusted you enough to tell you the truth. I won’t— Thanks for telling me. I’ll keep an eye on him, though.” 

Evan nods. “Yeah. Yeah. Thank you. And um…he said he didn’t break his hands because he did martial arts?” 

She shakes her head. “I hate him.” 

Someone calls Zoe’s name. She glances back at them and holds up a finger. “I have to go,” she says to Evan. “Are you… Everything good?” 

Evan smiles weakly. “I-I’m…okay. But actually…” He glances down to his phone. “Any chance you could give me a ride to your house after rehearsal?” 

Zoe raises an eyebrow. “You want to hang around for another forty five minutes?” 

He shrugs. “W-why not.” 

She snorts. “Okay. Sure, why not. I’ll meet you outside the band room then.” 

—«·»—  


Evan spends the next forty two minutes in the computer lab. He sits on his laptop and spins in slow circles as he types mindlessly. He’s not really working on a letter, he’s just sort of typing words. 

He’ll probably forget about this document and find it later and not know what he was trying to say. 

His mind keeps wandering back to Connor. He’d like to politely ask it to stop doing that. 

When rehearsal ends, he meets Zoe outside the band room. She’s laughing and talking with her friends and Evan feels awkward and out of place, even when she smiles at him and tries to invite him into the conversation. He trails behind them as they leave the school and walk out to the parking lot. Slowly, people break off to head to their own cars. 

Zoe unlocks her car and tosses her backpack into the back seat as Evan climbs into the passenger seat. She hooks up her phone to the aux cord and instrumental music starts to play loudly from the speakers. She sees Evan wince when the notes blare and turns down the volume. 

“Is this…Pirates of the Caribbean?” Evan asks slowly.

Zoe grins as she puts the car in reverse and backs out of the parking space. “Yup! I’m on a movie score ‘kick’ right now and Connor fucking hates it. But this score literally makes me feel like I could do anything, so fuck Connor’s opinion.” 

Evan smiles and leans against the door. 

Zoe sings along softly as she drives, sometimes wiggling her fingers in the air along with the notes. Sometimes the song will change and she’ll sit up a little straighter with a grin. Evan has no idea how she immediately knows what movies the songs are from, but she does. 

He’s watching her nod along to what she says is some version of Robin Hood that he’s never heard of when he realizes something is…different. He still gets nervous and awkward around her, but in the same way he gets nervous and awkward around everyone. He doesn’t think about Zoe any more than he thinks about Alana. It’s nice when she smiles, but his hands don’t get sweaty and his stomach doesn’t twist. 

“Here we are,” Zoe announces, pulling into the driveway. She grabs a clip from the sunglasses compartment and sweeps her hair up into a messy bun thing. “Have fun with Connor, but I’m stealing the TV.” 

Evan nods as he unbuckles his seatbelt.  

Zoe unlocks the door and yells. Evan is realizing that this is just part of the Murphys’ daily life. “I’m home! I brought Evan!” 

“In my room!” Connor shouts back almost immediately. “Bring food.” 

Zoe elbows Evan lightly. “Come on, let’s get snacks. And lunch.” She gives him a look that stops all protests in their tracks. 

Zoe decides a kitchen tour is necessary as she makes Evan pasta in the microwave and grabs chips off a top shelf for Connor. She shows Evan where the silverware is, where the plates and glasses are, where the pantry is, where Larry hides candy— it’s weird how Zoe thinks that Evan is going to spend a lot of time here. 

She grabs an apple and tosses it to Evan. “Here. Tell Connor he needs to pretend to be vaguely healthy.” 

They climb upstairs — Evan with a bowl of pasta and vegetables and with the apple, Zoe with the chips and crackers for herself — and Zoe talks about something that happened at lunch. She throws the bag of chips at Connor, who bats them out of the way and lets them fall on the floor. 

Zoe sticks her tongue out at him. “I’ll see you later, Evan,” she says, bumping their shoulders together. “Shout if Connor starts acting like a dick.” 

“He’d lose his voice,” Connor says flatly. He’s sitting in his desk chair with his laptop on his lap. 

Evan laughs. 

Connor nods to the bed as he bends down to pick up the chip bag. “You can sit on my bed. I’m…” He looks to his laptop. “I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

Evan makes himself comfortable on Connor’s comforter and slowly eats his pasta as Connor spins in slow circles. 

“Is my sister trying to mom you?” Connor asks, pointing at Evan’s bowl. 

Evan shrugs. “She found out I didn’t eat lunch.” 

“My bad.” Connor stuffs a few chips into his mouth. 

“I’m fine,” Evan promises. “I’m eating now. It was more important.” 

They eat in silence for a few minutes before Connor says, “I don’t actually have anything for us to do. Friends just…hang out. I guess? We can fucking…talk about…girls?” 

Evan pokes a carrot with his fork. “Or boys.” 

Connor stop spinning. “Boys,” he echoes. 

Evan clears his throat. “Uh, yeah um. Boys? I like. Boys are. Boys…” He looks up to see Connor trying to hold back a smile. “Shut up.” 

“I didn’t say anything.”  

“I’m bi,” Evan says, giving up. “I’m bi, okay? I’m— boys are nice. Girls are nice. People are nice? I don’t know.” 

Connor laughs. “Cool. I’m gay. I agree with you. ‘Boys’. Real deep, Ev.” 

Evan groans. “Come  _ on _ .” 

“But this works,” Connor says. “We can talk about boys. And not girls, because no offense, I don’t want to hear you talk about,” he points to the room next to them. 

Evan blinks. “What?” 

“Are we still pretending that your really awkward crush on my sister doesn’t exist?” Connor asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Oh. Oh yeah. That. I don’t think that, um, that’s…a thing anymore?” Connor tilts his head and Evan puts his bowl down on the bed. “I-I mean, she’s great! She’s still nice and pretty and I like… I like talking to her but not…that way? I don’t think that I like her like that anymore.” 

“Good, because I didn’t want to think about that,” Connor says. 

Evan rolls his eyes. 

“Sorry if I find it weird that my best friend,” Evan doesn’t miss the way Connor’s eyebrows raise on ‘best friend’, “had a crush on my sister.” 

“ _ Anyway _ ,” Evan says, desperate to change the subject to literally anything else. He looks around the room and his eyes land on Connor’s overflowing bookshelves. “I, um, talked to Alana? She said you like english?” 

Connor shrugs. “It’s okay.” 

“What’s your favorite book?” 

Connor’s eyes light up. “Just one? I mean, shit that would have to be  _ Le Petit Prince _ .” 

Evan nods slowly. “Okay… I don’t know that one.” 

“It’s French,” Connor says. “The english title is the Little Prince. There’s a movie version on Netflix, we should watch it sometime.” 

Evan’s chest feels a little funny. “Okay, yeah.” 

“But I’ll find my copy,” Connor says, squinting at the bookshelves. “You should read it. You…might like it. It’s not that long, if that helps.” 

“What’s it about?” 

Connor leans back in his chair with a small smile on his face. “It’s about a kid who leaves his planet to travel the universe. It’s— there’s more than that. But you have to read it yourself.” 

Evan nods. Because maybe this is how he learns more about Connor. And Evan would do anything to understand him better.

* * *

Evan walks over the the Murphys’ on Saturday. Connor offers a ride, but Evan doesn’t mind the walk. The air is bitterly cold and tastes like winter. It’s the tail end of October, but Evan thinks that Mother Nature may be cheating them out of a bit of fall. 

Cynthia opens the door with a smile when he knocks. She takes his coat and hangs it up, asking if he wants anything to eat. Evan rejects her offer as always and heads upstairs to Connor’s room. 

Connor is laying on the floor. He holds a book open above him, arms straight. Evan wonders if that’s a comfortable way to read. 

Evan knocks on the doorframe. 

Connor looks away from his book and smiles. “‘Sup.” 

“Don’t you have an essay?” Evan asks. He pulls Connor’s chair away from his desk and sits down. “For Beowulf? Alana’s been working on it for days.” 

“It’s  _ Saturday _ ,” Connor says dramatically. “ _ Shabbat _ , Ev. I can’t work.” 

Evan raises an eyebrow. “You’re defining work as ‘doing homework’?” 

Connor puts his book down on his chest. “Yes.” 

“Do you ever do homework?” 

There’s a long pause before Connor props himself up on his elbows. “One, fuck off. Two…fuck you. It’ll be fine. Fuck the essay. Fuck my grades. Fuck school. And honestly? Fuck Beowulf. We get it manly man warrior man. You’re a man.”  

“Manly man warrior man?” Evan asks. “You sound like you’re talking about the football players.” 

Connor snorts and sits up all the way. “Nice, Ev. Remember when I thought you were a nice person?” 

Evan pushes away from the desk and wheels toward the center of the room, closer to Connor. “No. I don’t remember you calling me nice. A pushover, maybe.” 

Connor leans forward and shoves Evan’s chair back. “Shut up. I definitely told you you were nice at least once. I take it back.” 

Evan holds onto the seat of the chair as the chair moves away from Connor. “That’s rude, Con.” 

Connor stares at him for a moment. Then he looks away and pulls his hair up into a messy bun. “Do you mind if I paint while we talk about whatever shit we talk about today?” 

“Nope.” Evan spins himself so he’s fully facing Connor again. He won’t say it, but he’s been interested in Connor’s art since he first mentioned it. There’s always paintbrushes and water cups lying around Connor’s room, but he’s never seen an actual painting from him. “Will it hurt your hand? Lana said she was taking notes for you in english.” 

Connor makes a face. “I’ll be fine. Alana likes to worry. And work. It’ll be a little sore but I’ll be careful. Don’t worry about me, Ev.” 

Evan chews on his bottom lip. Too late. Much too late. 

“What do you want to talk about today?” Connor asks. He pulls a sketchbook out of his bookshelves and a thin white box. He grabs his water cups off the desk and sits on the floor. 

“What do you do with your art?” Evan asks, tilting his head. 

Connor reaches under his bed and pulls out a roll of paper towels. “What do you mean?” 

“Uh… I mean, I know some people post their art on like…the internet? I was just— do you do that? Or is it just for yourself?” 

Connor puffs out his cheeks as he opens up the white box— watercolors. One of the colors is completely gone and the others look used. “I’ve, uh, got a few embarrassing accounts from like…middle school? Fucking angst fest disasters those are. Haven’t done anything with any art recently,” he admits. “I kind of…gave up for a while.” He opens his sketchbook and Evan catches a page full of purples and greens before Connor turns to a page with a pencil sketch on it. “So I’m trying to figure out what the fuck is happening.” He dips a paintbrush in a water cup and looks up at Evan. “I have no clue what the fuck is happening.” 

Evan laughs. “I never know what the fuck is happening.” 

Connor points his paintbrush at Evan. “And that’s why we’re friends.” 

Evan smiles and pretends it doesn’t hurt. 

—«·»—

Connor almost falls out of bed when Cynthia shouts his name. Evan looks up from Connor’s laptop in surprise. They lock eyes as Connor rolls out of bed. 

“Be right back,” he says. “Hopefully.” 

Connor’s barely been gone for a minute when Zoe’s poking her head into Connor’s room. 

“What’s up?” she asks. She has her hair pulled up into a top knot and some sort of green face mask covering her face. 

Evan stares at her. 

Zoe rolls her eyes. “I know. I look like a monster.” 

“I wasn’t going to say  _ that _ ,” Evan says, sitting up in bed. “We’re just watching YouTube.” 

“Lame.” She leans against the doorframe. “I still think your friendship with my brother is weird.” 

Evan laughs and it feels a little breathless. “Yeah it’s… You aren’t the only one.”  

“Jared?” 

He nods. 

Zoe looks over her shoulder. “Figures. I don’t know how you two became…a thing really,” Evan tries not to make a face, “but like… I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I think it’s good for both of you. Weird.” 

“Weird,” Evan murmurs. 

A thing. They aren’t a thing. Jared calls people ‘a thing’ when he’s talking about people who are dating. And Connor and Evan are just fake friends. That’s not a thing. It just…is. 

He won’t let himself think about that. That’s…too much. 

“Are you bothering Evan?” Connor asks, squeezing past Zoe when she refuses to move. 

“We’re just having a talk.” Zoe winks at Evan. 

Connor looks between them. “About…?” 

“Nothing,” she singsongs before walking away. 

Connor stares at Evan. 

“It really was nothing,” Evan promises. “She just asked what we were doing.” 

“Oh.” Connor flops down on the bed next to Evan. “Whatever. Want to go back to uh…” He squints at the screen. “Were we really just watching a guy make bread?” 

Evan nods. “Yeah. How did you forget so quickly?” 

“I think I zoned,” Connor admits. He grabs a pillow and wraps his arms around it. “Whatever. Let’s do this.” 

“You say that like we’re about to do something life changing,” Evan murmurs as he presses play. 

“Maybe we are,” Connor mumbles into his pillow. 

—«·»—  


Evan stares at his ceiling. 

He can’t stop thinking. His brain almost never shuts up, but right now it’s worse. Because it’s not anxiety. 

It’s Connor. 

Everything about Connor. His smiles. His laugh. The way he runs his hand through his hair. How he leans over a little bit to talk to Evan. 

Oh. 

Oh no. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a reminder that i Love zoe murphy!! and alana beck!!! my girls!!!! im trying to squeeze more alana into the fic cause she isnt in a ton of the original outline, and thats on me
> 
> beowulf is. not the worst? i have mixed feelings. but we did talk about phallic symbolism in it for 3 days. and our teacher DID have to ward of the vp because that wouldve been....interesting
> 
> tell me you cant do ANYTHING while the potc soundtrack plays. try and convince me
> 
> also!! yes the murphys are jewish! evan and jared are also jewish! thank you to sarah for letting me bug you with questions about judaism!! thanks for not blocking me <3


	8. $192

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit do NOT expect updates from me this fast after november ends!!!!! i'm frantically doing nano as fast as possible and i am MAJORLY fucking myself over. after this is posted i'm writing 4 essays and catching up on readings (whoops)
> 
> this chapter has sooo much going on but a huge thank you to both sarah and flor for making it possible with your very different but very good ideas <3
> 
>  **warnings:** depression, anxiety, references to suicide/past suicide attempts/self harm, some poor eating habits, a few mentions of drugs
> 
> enjoy and please read the end note~

High school is bullshit. Connor has known this since he first stepped into the annoyingly bright hallways freshman year because some asshole decided skylights were a good idea. It’s six hours of bullshit, with a bullshit twenty three minute lunch thrown somewhere in the middle. 

It’s a lot of bullshit. 

Somehow, having a friend makes it…less bullshit. A fake friend. Evan makes everything suck a little less. There’s something to look forward to when he shows up at ass o’clock in the morning. There’s a reason to push through the day, even if it’s just seeing Evan’s smile as he puts books back into his locker. Tuesdays are arguably the best because Connor gets a solid twenty extra minutes with Evan at lunch. 

Which in and of itself is its own can of bullshit. A can that Connor should not have opened, but here they fucking are. 

There are a few times where Connor genuinely considers telling Evan about his feelings. Platonic and romantic. And then he laughs at himself because no fucking way. On what planet would Evan Hansen like  _ him _ in any capacity?

Connor is lucky that he’s been able to hold on to Evan as a fake friend. He’s not going to push his luck. 

Every time he smiles at Evan he pushes his luck a little more. Every time he asks Evan to hang out without having a legit reason for it he pushes his luck. Every time he  _ thinks about Evan _ —

Connor focuses on friendship. He focuses on friendship because he will settle for friendship. He would give anything to be Evan’s real friend. 

It’s ridiculous but it’s true. 

Connor is in way too fucking deep.

* * *

“Where have you been?” Larry asks from the couch when Connor opens the front door. 

Connor rolls his eyes. “I was with Evan.” And Jared. It was weird but not the worst. Jared kept claiming he could beat Evan at Mario Kart and kept losing and had to buy the pizza. Even if all Connor got out of those three hours was the priceless look on Jared’s face when Connor rolled his pizza up like a burrito with the toppings on the outside, it was worth it. 

“Hm.” 

Connor shuts the door and pulls off his boots. He drops them by Zoe’s converse. “I told Zoe where I was.” 

“So you’re talking to your sister again?” 

Connor pauses. He was going to go grab a drink, but apparently not. “Why do you care?” 

Larry lowers his phone. “Because she’s your sister.” 

“…and?” 

“How long have you known Evan?” Larry asks. 

Connor frowns. “What does that have to do with anything?” 

“Answer the question, Connor.” 

Connor grimaces at the sharp tone. “I don’t fucking know—” 

“ _ Language _ .” 

“—like seven months? Why does it matter?”  

Larry slides his phone into his pocket. “And how long have you known Zoe?” 

Connor scoffs. “Seriously? Are you about to yell at me for spending time with my friend?” 

Larry crosses his arms. “He’s always around.” 

“Yeah, because he’s my friend and I like him? Zoe’s with her friends all the time, and you don’t say shit about that.” Connor walks into the dining room. If Larry wants to have this conversation, he either has to follow Connor or yell. 

“Connor,” Larry says warningly. 

“Maybe  _ Zoe _ doesn’t want to spend time with  _ me _ ,” Connor snaps. Because Zoe  _ doesn’t _ . And that’s fine. Connor has made her life hell so he doesn’t blame her for not wanting to have anything to do with him. 

Larry stalks into the dining room and sometimes Connor forgets that Larry is where he gets his height. “That’s not the point.” 

Connor throws his arm out. “Then what  _ is _ the point!?” 

“You have a better relationship with  _ Evan  _ than with your sister.” 

Connor stares at him. “Why does this matter.” For some reason this hurts. It stings like he’s just submerged papercut covered hands in lemon juice. It hurts too much for fire to keep burning. 

“You’ve known him for less than a  _ year _ ,” Larry says, voice low and dangerous. 

“You think you’d be happy that I’ve found an actual friend,” Connor says numbly. The lie burns his mouth. 

“You spend  _ far _ more time with him than Zoe—” 

“He actually  _ wants _ to be around me!” Connor protests. Because he will listen to his father tear him down, but he won’t listen to him say anything about Evan. Not Evan. “Zoe—” 

“Is your  _ sister _ !” Larry yells. Connor feels his blood run cold. “When was the last time you were actually a brother to her!?”

Connor feels sick. The world cracks and crumbles around the edges and his insides freeze and shatter. He laughs. It hurts his chest. “When was the last time you were a father to me?” he whispers. 

Larry’s expression doesn’t change. It stays hard. Cold and distant. 

When was the last time— 

Connor holds eye contact as long as he can. But he’s broken and the world around him is numbing and dying. 

So he leaves. 

He pushes past Larry, dropping his eyes to the floor with his tongue heavy in his mouth. He shoves his boots on and throws the door open. 

“Where are you going?” Larry yells. Because he can keep doing this. He can do this for hours. 

Connor looks out at their driveway. The dying grass and dead plants in neat rows. Brown and wilted and dying and dead. “Why do you care?” he asks. 

He slams the door behind him. 

It feels good to have a door to slam. 

—«·»—  


His feet bring him to the playground. There aren’t many places to go in this town. 

It’s getting dark. There’s a singular light by the school that still turns on with the other streetlights. It illuminates parts of the playground in a hazy glow. 

It doesn’t look real. 

Connor sits under the stairs that lead up to the slide. If he closes his eyes, he can bring himself back to elementary school. He digs his hand into the wood chips, cold and jagged and stabbing at his skin. He can pretend. He can hear screaming and laughter and kids running up the stairs trying not to slip. Kids hiding under here, whispering secrets to each other. Someone throws the woodchips at someone else and gets yelled at. They play clapping games and tic-tac-toe in the dirt. They pull up grass and throw it in the air and fall off the monkeybars and fight over the swings and stand under the trees and play in the mud—

Connor takes a shaky breath as hot tears run down his cheek. He scrubs them away with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. 

He hates crying. He hates how it makes him feel. He hates how tears feel, he hates the runny nose, he hates the sobbing and the ragged breathing and how it makes him feel weak. 

He sniffs and wipes away more tears. God, he needs to get high. But he refuses to go home and his stash is running out because he’s low on cash because he’s been spending it all on Evan. 

Evan.

Connor flexes his hands — they’re cramped from the cold and from the fists he’s been squeezing them in — and pulls his phone out of his pocket. At least it hasn’t shut off from the cold yet, that’s happened to him before and it’s annoying to deal with.

**From: Connor** **  
****To: Evan** **  
**      tell zoe im fine just needed to blow off steam   
     emphasize im not with you 

He’s surprised he can type actual words let alone with no spelling mistakes. His hands are cold and shaking. He presses his phone against his forehead and takes a slow breath. 

Fuck. 

Every atom in his body wants to walk to Evan’s right now. He just wants to be  _ near _ Evan. There’s something about Evan that’s undeniably calming, even though Evan could be described as nervous energy barely held together in a human form. Something about Evan that makes him feel less at war with himself. 

But he already used up his time with Evan for the day. Even just texting Evan feels like too much. 

His phone buzzes against his forehead. 

**From: Evan** **  
****To: Connor** **  
**      Ok  j ust did!!   
     Is everyhting ok??? Do you need ot talk ??

Connor stares at the message. He kind of want to cry again, which fucking sucks. And he told Evan that he would tell him if something was wrong but— no. 

**From: Connor** **  
****To: Evan** **  
**      no not now   
     maybe later

Connor stares at their conversations. 

He asked Evan about cats at four in the morning once. Evan hadn’t responded until he woke up two hours later — good — but when he did he had a bunch of random cat facts. And pictures of Jared’s cat to share. 

It felt like friendship. That’s what friendship feels like, right? Connor doesn’t know. He doesn’t know. But he thinks, somehow, he’s broken things. Whatever they are. Because he’s too attached. He’s too involved. Everything is too much. 

He digs his fingers into the woodchips again. 

Connor can’t decide if it’s better if Evan likes him or hates him. 

—«·»—  


Zoe texts him. He knows because his phone buzzes and he looks down and he sees her name right above Evan’s. Connor’s phone is at 4%. He turns on airplane mode and locks it without reading any of their texts. 

Connor rests his chin on his knees and stares ahead into the darkness. 

He doesn’t want to walk home. He knows he has to or he’ll probably freeze to death but that wouldn’t be too bad, would it? 

No, that’s a bad idea. 

Connor stretches his legs out in front of him. They feel weird, he’s spent so long with them pulled up against his chest. If he stands he might fall over. 

He can’t feel his hands when he gets up off the ground. He climbs out from under the slide and holds onto the railing as his legs remember how they’re supposed to work. 

He’s tired. 

Connor squints into the darkness as he leaves the playground. The streets are so poorly lit in this area that he’s probably going to fall and break something. That’s what happens when people don’t use an area. They don’t care for it. And then some asshole teenager breaks his fucking leg walking home in the dark. 

His phone would probably die before he could call for help too. 

Connor stuffs his hands in his pockets and starts walking. He knows he should probably pay more attention, but he barely pays attention to the few cars on the roads as he makes his way down the sidewalk. As he gets into a more residential area, it gets a little brighter. 

He looks up to cross a street and locks eyes with a doe standing in someone’s yard. It stares at him for a long moment before bounding away into the darkness. 

Connor looks both ways and crosses the street, stepping around a puddle that’s starting to freeze over. 

He stops when he gets to the bottom of his driveway. 

If Larry tries to talk to him when he goes inside, he’ll leave. Connor’s already decided. He doesn’t know where he’ll go, but he’ll leave. 

Connor huffs. He really just wants his bed right now. 

The door is unlocked when he tries the doorknob. He frowns and slowly pushes the door open. A lamp is on in the living room, though the rest of the rooms are dark. 

He quietly takes his boots off and closes and locks the door as softly as possible. 

“Connor?” Cynthia asks as soon as he takes another step into the house. 

Connor sighs. “Yeah it’s me.” 

She gets up from the couch and hurries over to where he’s standing by the front door. “I was so worried,” she whispers, reaching up to touch his cheek. “Oh, Con, you’re  _ freezing _ .” 

“It is November,” Connor tries to joke. The singular stings. 

The crease in Cynthia’s forehead gets deeper. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. 

“Zoe said Evan texted her— were you with him?” 

Connor pulls away. “No,” he says sharply. “I wasn’t. I don’t spend every fucking moment with him, _god_.” He walks toward the kitchen. His hands are still ice and he needs something to warm them. 

“I never said you did.” Cynthia follows him. “Your father—” 

“Don’t.” 

Cynthia sighs. “Connor, we can’t pretend that didn’t happen.” 

“I’m going to try.” He debates making coffee, but all that will get from his mom is a disapproving look. He reaches for Zoe’s mint hot chocolate instead. 

Cynthia makes a frustrated noise. “Where did you go, Connor?”

“Out.” He grabs the first mug he sees. He resists the urge to drop it when he realizes it’s one of Larry’s, old and orange and so well used that the logo has washed off the side of it. 

“Were you out smoking again?” 

“No.” He almost wants to laugh. He wishes. He takes the milk out of the fridge and pours it into the mug. He’s too tired to do anything more than microwave milk right now. 

“Are you sure?” 

Connor sighs and turns to Cynthia with the mug in his left hand. “Mom, you would know if I had been high tonight. Weed smells? Remember?” He brushes past her and puts the mug in the microwave. 

Cynthia watches him with sad eyes. She always looks  _ sad _ and it’s Connor’s fault which is… It’s kind of shitty. “I was terrified,” she says softly. 

Connor grimaces. 

“I kept thinking… I was so worried that maybe you…” 

If she starts crying— Connor doesn’t actually know what he’ll do. “I was fine,” he promises. “I wasn’t going to do anything.” 

“Would you tell me if you were going to?” 

Connor can’t meet her eyes. He watches the numbers count down on the microwave. He pulls the door open before it can beep. Cynthia sighs as he puts too much hot chocolate powder in the milk. Connor stirs carefully, trying not to spill all over the counter. 

“You can always talk to me, sweetheart,” Cynthia says, squeezing his shoulder. Connor shrugs and she presses a kiss to his cheek. “We can talk in the morning. Sleep well.” 

Connor stares down into his hot chocolate as she leaves the kitchen. 

He has the strong urge to just sit on the floor and waste away. 

He takes his hot chocolate up to his room and sits in bed and watches the Great British Baking Show on his laptop. It feels weirdly fake. 

At some point he falls asleep. It all feels the same.

* * *

 

“Connor. Connor. Connor!” 

Connor groans and rolls over so he’s not facing his doorway. 

“Connor, if you don’t get up now, you’re walking to school.” 

He squeezes his eyes shut tighter. “‘m not going,” he mumbles. 

Zoe grabs his shoulder and shakes him. “Get up!” 

Connor shoves her hand away. “Go away!” 

“I’m not dealing with your shit—” 

“I’m not going!” Connor twists to glare at her. “Fuck off, I’m  _ not going _ .” 

Zoe stares at him. She’s all ready. Her hair is braided over one shoulder, her makeup is done. Connor can’t even remember when she started wearing makeup. He doesn’t know when Zoe grew up. 

“Did you  _ hear me _ ?” he snaps. “I’m not going to school.” 

She takes a step away. “Okay. Okay. Fine. You’re not going.” She keeps looking at him. Why is she looking at him like that? “Go back to sleep.” She slips out of the room and Connor keep looking at the space she occupied. 

He hears the front door open and close. He pulls the covers over his head and goes back to sleep. 

—«·»—

Connor wakes up a little bit before noon. 

His head hurts and his mouth tastes like death. He stumbles out of bed just to brush his teeth. He probably wouldn’t move other than the fact that his mouth is gross. 

While he’s looking at himself in the bathroom mirror as he mindlessly brushes his teeth, he realizes he never changed out of yesterday’s closes. He’s still wearing ripped jeans and an old sweatshirt. 

His phone is still sitting on his desk with 2% left. Connor plugs it in and turns off airplane mode and puts on sweatpants that are a little too big and a hoodie that has old paint stains on it. Then he gets back in bed. 

He watches videos on his laptop, not really paying attention to what’s on the screen. He looks away in surprise when his phone vibrates. He picks it up and skims through the messages. He never read the ones from last night. 

**From: Evan** **  
****To: Connor** **  
**      Ok IM gonna hol d you to that ok?? 

**From: Z** **  
****To: C** **  
**      Why the fuck did Evan just text me????   
     Where are you?   
     What happened all I heard was Dad yelling and then you were gone   
     Connor   
     Don’t fucking ignore me 

**Missed call and voicemail from Z**

**Missed call from Z**

**From: Z** **  
****To: C** **  
**      Pick up asshole

**Missed call from Z**

**From: Evan** **  
****To: Connor** **  
**      Umm Zoes freaking ou ton me?    
     Connr what happened wheer are y ou ?

**Missed call from Z**

**From: Z** **  
****To: C** **  
**      Fuck you   
     Ok?    
     Seriously fuck you   
     You’re killing mom    
     I hope you’re fucking happy   
     If we find you dead in a ditch somewhere I swear

**From: Evan** **  
****To: Connor** **  
**      Pl ease answ er some on e

**From: Z** **  
****To: C** **  
**      I heard you and mom in the kitchen. Fuck you. You can’t do this    
     You’re terrifying Connor    
     You scare the shit out of me   
     I know you won’t respond tonight. I’ll tell Evan you’re ok   
     This shit isn’t funny

**From: Evan** **  
****To: Connor** **  
**      Zo ejust text dme Im glad youre ok but I wsih you answered your phone   
     I know thing s get hard but please let people know yoru esafe because otherwise peoplestart to think the wrs t and then they bother you and dont let you leave their sight    
     We just want the bes t for you we want you to be ok    
     Ill see you tomorrwo

**From: Z** **  
****To: C** **  
**      Just told Evan you won’t be here today. I’m guessing you still haven’t responded to him.   
     Maybe try to be a good friend.    
     Or even just a friend.

**From: Evan** **  
****To: Connor** **  
**      Zoe said you werent coming in today?? A reyou ok?    
     Thats hte worst question to ask IM so sorry    
     Please talk ot me Connor    
     Its importan t   
     Im coming over after school    
     I knw thats invading on your personal space but I need to know if youre ok andif youre not going to answer texts I don tknow how else to reach you    
     I have to help alana with stuco stuff because no on eelse wants to hang posters but Ill be there afterward even if its only for like two minutes can we please talk?? 

“I’m home!” Zoe shouts. 

Connor glances up to the top of his phone to see the time. Shit. It’s already two. He doesn’t know how he lost so much time to YouTube. Which means Evan will be here…soon. 

**From: Connor** **  
****To: Evan** **  
**      ok 

“Connor?” Zoe calls out. 

Connor stares at her texts and feels his stomach turn. “What?” he yells back. 

“Come get your boots! Mom wants us to move ours shoes!” 

He scowls and lays back down. “Fuck off!” 

She yells at him to get them again, but he just puts headphones in and ignores her. He lays in bed and stares at the wall and listens to music that is way too loud. It would be nice to feel something right now. He distantly hears Zoe yell again and tries to turn the music up louder. The volume doesn’t increase and he makes a face and does a silent eulogy for his eardrums. 

Zoe shouts his name again and Connor sighs and yanks out his earbuds. He tried. “What?!” 

He can’t make out whatever she says next, but then she shouts, “You’re a dick!” 

“Not fucking news,” he snaps. He’s about to put his headphones back in when Evan appears in his doorway. He’s still wearing his backpack and his arms are filled with food and there’s something tucked under his arm. 

Connor stares at him. “What the fuck.” 

Evan laughs awkwardly. “No dishes in the sink. We realized you probably didn’t eat today.” He looks down at the food he’s holding. There are chips and a container of strawberries and a loaf of bread and he’s carefully balancing a bowl on top of the strawberries. 

“Why didn’t you—” 

“Zoe had to run,” Evan says. “Something about an emergency piano job?” 

Connor squints. “I forgot she plays piano.” 

Evan nods. “Someone’s accompaniment is sick so I think she has to fill in. Can you, uh…” 

“Oh, right.” Connor gets out of bed and takes the bowl from Evan. It’s filled with leftover mac n cheese. He puts it on the desk and then takes the chips. 

“A-anyway, Zoe had to run and two trips are for suckers.” Evan puts the strawberries and bread down on the desk. 

Connor rolls his eyes. “Okay.”

“These are also for you.” Evan pulls a stack of mail out from under his arm. “Looks like mostly college stuff.” 

“Fucking college board,” Connor mutters. “Never should’ve taken the SATs.” 

“Yeah, same. They won’t leave me alone. Oh! And Alana gave me notes for you for english. She started saying something about like…chiasmic?” 

“Chiasmus,” Connor mutters, looking through the mail. Nothing he cares about. Great. He can set it on fire. 

“Yeah that’s it!” Evan takes off his backpack and puts it on the floor to take out a notebook. 

Connor stares at him. “Evan?” 

Evan looks up at him. “Yeah?” 

“Are… Why are you wearing my boots?” 

“Oh.” Evan stands up straighter and lifts one of his feet. “Zoe kept yelling at you to bring your boots upstairs. Figured if I was bringing you all this I just…take them too?” 

Connor stares at him. Evan looks kind of ridiculous. Connor’s all too familiar black combat boots are paired with Evan’s usual khakis and a gray sweatshirt with a striped polo peaking out from under it. The boots go up a little too high on Evan’s shins which adds to the look and Connor is now noticing that they give Evan a few inches that he definitely does not actually have. 

“Is this what it’s like to be tall?” Evan asks with a smile. 

Connor snorts. “No, Hansen. It’s not.” 

Evan shrugs. “I’ll take it.” 

“Aren’t those kind of big for you?” Connor’s mind is still trying to process this. Evan is wearing his shoes. That’s definitely not something he’s thought about before. Or ever considered. He thinks his brain might be resetting. 

“Oh god yes.” Evan sits down on Connor’s bed and unlaces one of the boots. “It’s actually a miracle I didn’t like…fall down your stairs or something. That would’ve been embarrassing.” 

“And painful.” 

“That too.” Evan pulls off the boot. He’s still wearing his old sneakers. 

Connor opens and closes his mouth a few times. “Hey, Ev?” 

Evan starts untying the other boot. “Yup?”

“You’re wearing…your shoes in my boots?” 

Evan looks Connor in the eye. “I already told you, two trips are for suckers.”  

Connor laughs. It’s weird to laugh right now, like it’s the wrong emotion to feel. But he laughs and smiles at Evan because there is something about Evan wearing sneakers in his boots that’s ridiculous but also makes Connor’s stomach fill with butterflies. “Okay, Ev. Whatever you say.” He falls onto his front on the bed next to Evan. The moment feels too light. And then all of Evan’s texts come back at him in a crushing wave. 

Connor grimaces. “Um…sorry for last night.”  

Evan glances back at him over his shoulder. “I…” He rubs a hand over his face. “You scared us.” He says it softly, like a secret, and stares at his feet. 

“I wasn’t thinking,” Connor admits. “I just… Fuck, I just needed to get out. And then my phone was almost dead and I didn’t want to talk to people… I fucked up.” 

Evan nods. He wordlessly pulls his sneakers off and then crosses his knees on the bed. 

“I had a fight with Larry it was…” Connor rolls onto his back and sits up. “I needed to be alone, I guess. I wasn’t really thinking about other people when I left. I didn’t even bring my house key.” 

Evan scoots further onto the bed. “What did you fight about?” 

Connor searches Evan’s face. His eyes trail over Evan’s freckles. They dot his face like stars. “Nothing serious,” he mumbles. “It just got out of hand.” 

Evan leans back on his hands. “Is that why you didn’t come to school today?” 

Connor runs a hand through his hair. “I guess. I just… Zoe woke me up and getting out of bed just seemed like the worst fucking option ever. I think I yelled at her, but I barely remember waking up.” He grabs the bowl of mac n cheese off the desk. Food. Right. 

Evan nods. “I… There are days like that. Where getting up makes me want to cry.” He holds out a hand. “Can I have the chips?” 

“That sucks.” Connor hands over the bag of chips and continues eating mac n cheese. The sooner he finishes this the sooner he can go back to not being a person. 

“Yeah, kind of.” 

Connor sighs. “Aren’t we a fucking pair.” He pushes pasta around the bowl. 

Evan tilts his head. “Yeah,” he mumbles. 

Connor frowns. “What is it?” 

Evan shakes his head. “Nothing. I thought of something, but it’s not important.” 

“Are you sure?” 

Evan nods and reaches for Connor’s laptop. “Let’s just watch something and pretend our lives aren’t horrible.” 

Connor watches Evan carefully as Evan opens YouTube and scrolls through the recommended videos until he finds one that isn’t too weird sounding. “Yeah that sounds like a good plan.” He puts his bowl back on the desk— he only had a few bites but his stomach is kind of done with food.

Connor takes the laptop from Evan and scoots over so they can both lean against the pillows. He rests the laptop on his knees. Evan’s arm presses against Connor’s and Connor tries not to think about it. He tries to focus on the random video that Evan chose. It’s probably funny or something. 

But he can’t. Because Evan is here. 

Evan is warm and curled toward Connor and his hair smells nice and he’s leaning his head against Connor’s shoulder to see the screen better. And Connor’s heart is doing this weird thing where it feels like it’s being squeezed which is honestly so fucking rude. 

Evan sighs and moves a little closer. 

Yup. This is hell.  

—«·»—  


“Connor!” 

Connor’s heart races as he wakes with a jerk. He’s about to move when he notices the weight on his torso. He looks down to see Evan’s head resting on his chest. 

Connor stops breathing. 

_ Holy shit holy shit holy shit holy— _

“Connor?”

Connor groans and squints into the bright light of the hallway. When did he fall asleep? When did it get so fucking dark out? Why is Evan sleeping on him? Why is Zoe always so  _ loud _ ? “Wha?” 

“You aren’t dead.” A smile plays at the corner of her mouth. Connor squints at her. “Get your ass downstairs, we’re about to—” 

Evan sits up, rubbing his eyes. 

Zoe stares at him. Her eyes go from Connor to Evan. Connor wants to go back to sleep. He wants Evan cuddled against him because fuck that was really nice. 

“Zoe?” Evan asks, voice soft.

Connor is not mentally equipped for this. 

“…thought Evan went home,” Zoe says slowly. 

“No,” Connor says. “Nap.” 

“Right. Right.” She tucks her hair behind her ear. “Cool. Okay.” She clears her throat. “We were going to…” She gestures over her shoulder. “You know…”  

Connor narrows his eyes as he tries to figure out what she means.

“Friday night? Shabbat?” 

Connor props himself up on his elbows. “Oh. Right.” He looks to Evan. Evan’s hair is messy and sticking up in all directions and it’s making Connor’s heart do weird things. 

Zoe follows his gaze. “Uh… Evan can…join us? If he…?” She gives Connor a desperate look. “Or stay here? Or sleep…? Um…” She raises her eyebrows at Connor. Connor shakes his head. 

“Uh…I don’t really…” Evan clears his throat. “My mom and I— we don’t really do anything for Shabbat at home…because… My mom works a lot so we don’t— I don’t really…know what I’m supposed to do?” 

Tension seems to leave Zoe as she smiles at Evan. “Don’t worry about it, we can show you. Connor doesn’t know what he’s doing either.” 

Connor flips her off and throws off his covers. “I won’t be insulted in my own fucking home,” he mutters. 

Evan crawls over Connor’s legs to get out of bed. “You sure I w-won’t ruin it?” he asks Zoe, tugging on his shirt. 

“Swear,” she says, drawing an x over her heart. “We haven’t set the house on fire yet, so you’ll be fine.” 

Evan steps past her into the hallway and Zoe immediately raises her eyebrows at Connor. Connor gives her a look. 

“What is this,” she hisses into his ear. 

“What do you mean?” he whispers back. 

She gestures to Evan. “When did you two get together?” 

Connor jerks away. “ _ What _ ?”

Zoe stares at him. “You’re—” 

“No!” He lowers his voice. “Zoe what the  _ fuck _ —” 

“I don’t know! He gets you to eat and sleep what the fuck am I supposed to think?” 

“Not that?” 

“A-are you two coming?” Evan asks from the top of the stairs. 

Connor and Zoe exchange a look. 

“Later,” Zoe says.

“No.” Connor walks over to Evan and tugs on his sleeve. “Let’s go.” 

Zoe squeezes past them on the stairs, flicking the back of Connor’s head as she goes. “Mom! Evan’s joining us!” 

Evan grabs Connor’s hand at the foot of the stairs. “I have no idea what I’m supposed to do,” he whispers with wide eyes. 

“It’s fine,” Connor promises. “Just stand next to me and do what I do. But you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” 

Evan looks toward the kitchen. “I… It’ll be fine. Yeah. I-I want to do this.”

Connor gives him a small smile and pulls him into the dining room. Cynthia places down another glass as they walk in and smiles at Evan. Evan nods and fiddles with his hands and Connor resists the annoyingly strong urge to hold his hand. 

Zoe passes around her purple kippot from a drawer near the sink, and Connor wonders how long it’ll take before his falls off this time. He watches Evan read the inscription inside of the date of her bat mitzvah, before nervously pressing it on his head.

They stand behind their chairs at the table, small glasses of grape juice — or in Larry’s case, red wine — next to their plates. Connor watches as Cynthia lights the candles and waves her hands over them before covering her eyes so she can’t see the flames as she sings a short prayer for the candles. 

Connor tries to concentrate on the Hebrew instead of the glow reflected in Evan’s eyes. Those are bad thoughts. And it’s also not the time for them. 

Cynthia moves to her seat and lifts her wine glass. Connor nudges Evan as the rest of the family does the same. Evan shoots him a thankful look and a tiny smile. They keep the glasses aloft as Cynthia makes Kiddush, only awkwardly joining in at the end of the blessing. 

Connor remembers Zoe learning the other parts of it for her bat mitzvah, but she probably feels too uncomfortable to sing along with Evan here. Not that Evan is the most awkward and uncomfortable part of their dysfunctional family. 

Everyone takes a sip of their drinks — Evan a little belatedly — and Cynthia removes the ornate cover from her handmade loaves of challah on the cutting board. Connor remembers when she used to buy challah for them, ordered specially from a bakery, shiny and with white flour. Sometimes on holidays they had raisins. 

Now she bakes them gluten free and several weeks in advance, but at least he remembers the blessing for once (the food was really the part of Hebrew school he looked forward to), so he joins in quietly with everyone, trying not to focus on Evan’s wavery stuttering. The bread is sliced and the cutting board is passed around, and they all take their seats. 

Connor hears an audible sigh of relief from Zoe. Evan looks to Connor and gives him a half smile. He’s gripping the hem of his shirt in his hands under the table. Connor smiles back. 

Zoe is still right, they haven’t burned the house down. 

Dinner is awkward. Honestly, Connor wasn’t expecting anything else. It’s awkward and quiet and the little talking that is done is done by Zoe and Cynthia. Connor does his best to just not look in Larry’s direction. He will ignore this as long as he possibly can. Next to him, Evan is tense and keeps his eyes mostly on his plate. Sometimes him and Connor make eye contact and Evan will give him a tiny smile and Connor’s heart tries out a fun new pattern. Evan keeps touching his kippah, sometimes adjusting it, eyebrows furrowing whenever he does. He’s probably worried about it slipping or falling into the soup or something and honestly, Connor relates. 

They survive. That’s the important part. 

“Told you it’d be fine,” Connor says as they go back up to his bedroom. Evan probably has to go home at some point but Connor is very pointedly not thinking about that. 

Evan laughs. “I thought my kippah was going to fall off. I’d probably find a way to make it catch fire.” 

“I’d be impressed.” 

Connor eyes the stack of snacks on his desk before grabbing the carton of strawberries and sitting on the edge of his bed. 

Connor holds out a strawberry and Evan takes it while saying, “You know, we just ate.”   
Connor shrugs. “Fruit is healthy.” 

“I mean you aren’t wrong.” Evan drops down on the bed next to Connor. 

Connor stares at him for a few moments. He’s probably got some sort of embarrassingly soft look on his face but it’s fine. Then he remembers that Evan is  _ here _ . “Oh shit, I have money here some—” 

“No,” Evan interrupts. 

Connor shakes his head. “We agreed—” 

“Fuck Jared’s list,” Evan says. He glances to the doorway and lowers his voice. “I wanted to be here, Con. I wanted to see you. D-don’t… You don’t have to pay me.” 

“Are you sure?” Connor asks softly. He feels…like he’s using Evan but worse. Because this is not the agreement. 

Evan nods. “I’m sure.” 

Connor runs a hand through his hair and looks away. “Okay,” he says, stomach turning. It’s okay. It’s fine. “Okay.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mega mega MEGA huge shoutout for sarah (and miryam!) for help with the entire shabbat scene!!!! you are the best <3  
> sidenote: the entire shabbat scene is based on a. our headcanons about the murphys and b. miryam and sarahs limited experiences as being part of the same ashkenazi conservative/reform jewish family. its not meant to represent all denominations or individual customs of any person or family! like any religion, judaism is complicated
> 
> me: mentions weed as vaguely as possible while knowing nothing about it  
> me: sweats
> 
> there are two texts from zoe that are my absolute favorite part of the entire chapter. just wanted to say that
> 
> i'm on [tumblr](http://heavenansen.tumblr.com)! feel free to bug me if i forget to update like i do


	9. $202

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of conversations. The return of Jared. A wild Heidi appears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that noise you hear? its me. screaming. college is horrific and im super screwed please write this essay on the decameron for me
> 
> im ALMOST done with nano!! (as you can tell from the wordcount) there might not be a chapter update by the end of the month but i will hit my goal! wow magic. little bit of a shorter chapter this time cause uhhhh ive never claimed to be good at this
> 
> shoutout to my lovely friends for all their contributions to this fic. particularly thank you to cam for the amazing project name
> 
>  **warnings:** anxiety, hints of bad eating habits

Evan pulls off his scarf and hangs it in his locker. 

It’s finally snowed. 

It snowed a few times before, October is notorious for it’s random snowstorms, but this is the first time this year it’s stuck. It started snowing Sunday morning and almost an inch gathered by mid afternoon. It was pretty light and uneventful, but Evan still made a point to send a picture of a snow dusted tree to Connor. Connor had replied ‘aesthetic’ and sent a picture of a plant Cynthia put in the living room that was mostly just dying. 

Evan hangs up his coat and shoves the mittens in the sleeves. November is ending and only now does he really  _ need _ to wear a coat to school. And take the bus. It’s hell.  

“So this is why you have a locker,” Connor says. 

“You have a locker too,” Evan reminds him.

Connor laughs. “No I fucking don’t, not if I can’t tell you which one it is.”

Evan shakes his head. “You’re just lazy.” 

“Yes.” 

“But if you ever need to hang up a coat you’re welcome to use mine.” 

Connor tilts his head. “Ev, what makes you think I’m weak enough to wear a winter coat?” 

Evan stares at him. “The fact that tomorrow it’s supposed to be like six degrees out?” 

“We die like men,” Connor says simply. He pulls Evan’s spanish textbook out of the locker and hands it to him. 

“You  _ die _ ,” Evan says pointedly. “And your hands are  _ freezing _ .” Evan stuffs the textbook into his bag and zips it shut. “Do you own gloves?” 

“Cool fingerless gloves because it fits the aesthetic,” Connor says, wiggling his fingers. 

Evan closes the locker. “You’re the worst.” 

Connor bumps their shoulders together. “Come on, Ev, admit they’re cool.” 

Evan shakes his head. “They really aren’t.” 

“Don’t lie to me,” Connor says as he opens the door to the stairwell. 

“Do you think I lie to you?” Evan asks, stopping to look Connor in the eye. 

Connor stares at him. 

Evan holds his breath. He doesn’t lie to Connor. Nothing he does is a lie. The question is will Connor figure that out. And if he does, will he hate him for it. 

Connor rolls his eyes. “You just haven’t seen them yet. They’re cool.” 

“Whatever you say,” Evan mutters. He starts down the stairs. “Has Jared started yet?” 

“Started what?” 

Evan opens the door at the bottom of the stairwell and holds it for Connor. “He has your phone number right?” 

Connor frowns. “Yeah? Is something horrible about to happen?” 

“What’s your definition of horrible?” 

“ _ Evan _ .” 

“What?” Evan stops walking. “Don’t you go down?” He nods to the stairs. 

Connor shrugs. “Yeah, but I can go the long way with you. What is Jared going to do?” 

“Thanksgiving is Thursday,” Evan says slowly. 

“Thank god. I don’t know how we’re getting through Wednesday but I’m fucking dying.” 

“We have a half day, Connor.” Evan steps closer to him to squeeze past a group of students crowded around a locker. 

“Who cares.” Connor looks down at him. “Anyway, what shit is Kleinman up to? And what does Thanksgiving have to do with it?” 

“What happens after Thanksgiving?” Evan asks. 

“People try to kill each other over jeans?” Connor suggests. 

Evan snorts. “I-I mean,  _ yeah _ , but it’s Christmas—” 

“Jared is Jewish,” Connor interrupts. “I’m also Jewish.  _ You’re _ Jewish.” 

Evan glances up at him. “I know. He has this playlist of Christmas songs that he blasts in his car. I don’t know why. But he  _ also _ has a playlist of Jewish parodies.” 

“I’m sorry  _ what _ ?” 

Evan sighs. “There’s one that’s called Shalom and he sang it for like a week. Basically, December is Jared’s favorite time of year because he can be an asshole under the guise of being ‘festive’.” 

Connor groans. “Please don’t say he’s going to send me links to all these videos.” 

“He will. I’m warning you.” Evan pauses. “Uh, this is my stop.” He motions to the classroom to their right. 

Connor nods. “Cool. I’ll see you later, I have to go block Jared’s number.” 

Evan smiles as Connor walks away and takes a deep breath before he goes into the classroom and sits down. 

His pocket is light. 

It’s Monday. Connor didn’t pay him today. 

Evan rests his chin in his hand and hides his smile. 

Maybe Connor just forgot. But it feels nice. Like this is real. 

That’s what Evan wants. 

—«·»—  


“I’ve been talking to Baz,” Alana says, flipping through her notebook as she walks. Evan nods. “I think she might be a good advisor for the club? Students typically feel relatively comfortable talking to her and I know she’s discussed mental health at the beginning of the year before.” 

Evan tightens one of the straps of his backpack. “Okay. I, um, we need a name before we talk to her?” 

Alana shakes her head. “I think we can just discuss the idea with her, even if we don’t have all the details solidified yet. If she’s against the idea, regardless of the current state of the details, we have to find a new advisor.” 

“Oh.” Evan steps away from Alana to let someone pass between them. “Do you… Like… Does it ever feel…not worth it?” 

Alana furrows her eyebrows but doesn’t look over to him. “What do you mean?” 

“You won’t even be around for the club, n-not really?” Evan shrugs. “It’s…a lot of work for something you won’t be around to see, I guess.” 

“Well…” She slows her steps. “I mean, hopefully it’ll start next semester, and if not we can always say we took the step to start a discussion of mental health in the school but…it could help other people?” 

Evan’s ears burned. “I didn’t mean—” 

“I know you didn’t,” Alana says. “I’ve wondered it myself. There’s no glory in getting the details perfect if you aren’t there to run it, but if we help other people, I think it’s worth it in the end.”

Evan walks up to his locker and puts in the combination. “Y-you’re right, sorry I just— sorry.” 

“Don’t be. It’s valid to think about.” Alana taps her nails against her notebook. “Now if only we could come up with a name…” 

“A name for what?” Connor asks. 

Evan looks up at him in surprise. “Isn’t your next class on the other side of the school?” 

Connor shrugs. “Who gives a shit?” 

“A name for our club,” Alana says, fixing her glasses. “It has a focus on mental health and starting a conversation about it in our school.” 

“This club,” Connor says. He tugs on the strap of his bag. “What are you working with for names?” 

Evan and Alana exchange a glance. 

“Nothing,” Alana says after a moment. “I was thinking maybe we could have the word ‘project’ in the name, but I haven’t come up with anything that’s stuck. Do you have any suggestions?” 

“The Fuck Project,” Connor deadpans. 

Evan covers his eyes with a hand. 

“We are not calling it the Fuck Project,” Alana says. 

“It’ll get people’s attention,” Connor points out. 

“Not in a good way,” Evan mutters. He drags his hand down his face and looks at Connor, who’s grinning at him. 

“We  _ do _ need to get this approved by the principal,” Alana adds. “And that name will give people the wrong idea, that is absolutely not what this club is about.” 

Connor shrugs a shoulder. “Temporary name, congrats, I helped out.” 

“Not really.” 

The warning bell rings and Alana glances over her shoulder. 

“I should go,” she says, “but I’ll text you about Baz?” 

Evan nods. “Y-yeah that’s— okay yeah. I’ll see you later?” 

Alana smiles and hurries down the hall. 

Connor watches her leave. “Baz?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Um, yeah.” Evan grabs the books he needs and closes the locker with his foot. “We need an advisor and Lana thinks Baz might be willing to help? Have you had her?” 

Connor shakes his head. “Baz teaches the CP kids, usually. I’ve been, uh, honors.” 

Evan blinks. “Oh yeah, I forgot college prep was a thing. She taught regular english sophomore year.” 

“You had her?” Connor asks. 

“Uh…kind of?” 

Connor furrows his eyebrows. “What do you mean?” 

“Bad semester,” Evan mutters. “I, uh… There weren’t a lot of classes I…went to?” 

Connor nods. “Got it.” 

“Don’t you have class?” Evan asks quickly. His head is starting to spin. 

“Yeah, I just.” Connor steps closer and Evan’s heart skips a few beats. “I’m sorry I forgot this earlier.” He presses a bill into Evan’s hand. 

Evan closes his eyes. 

Right. 

Right. Right, of course. Connor just forgot. He didn’t mean anything by it. He’s sticking to the agreement. 

Evan feels sick. 

He crumples the bill up in his fist. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he mumbles. 

“It won’t happen again,” Connor promises. 

Evan’s hand feels like it’s on fire. 

—«·»—  


Jared tosses his bag onto the couch and disappears into the kitchen. “Have you gotten any better about keeping food in your house?” he shouts. 

Evan rolls his eyes. “Why do I need t-to buy food when you do it for me?” 

Jared leans out of the doorway. “Fuck off, man, you never buy the chips I like.”  

“Exactly.” 

Jared glares at Evan and ducks back into the kitchen. “Hungry?” 

“Not really.” Evan reaches into his pocket and grabs the ten dollar bill Connor handed to him earlier. “Meet me up in my room?” 

“Sure, stealing this chocolate, B-T-dubs.” 

“I can’t stop you,” Evan mutters. “Bring up your bag! Don’t leave it on the couch!” 

“Don’t tell me what to do!” 

Evan leaves Jared to pull apart the kitchen and heads up to his room. He leaves his backpack on his bed and pulls open his closet, pushing aside sweatshirts to get to a shoebox he’s buried. He pulls the ten out of his pocket and stares at it for a moment before he takes the top off the shoebox and puts it inside. Then he covers it back up with his sweatshirts and closes his closet door. 

Now he can pretend it doesn’t exist. 

When Jared kicks open the bedroom door with popcorn in one hand and chocolate in the other, Evan is sitting on his bed with his laptop open. 

“Wow, lame,” Jared says. Evan glances up at him. “I’m kidding,” Jared says quickly. “That’s exactly what I did yesterday.” He drops down into Evan’s desk chair. “How’d you spend your weekend?” 

Evan shrugs. “Same. S-some homework and uh…spent Friday with Connor.” 

Jared opens his bag of popcorn. “I’ve been fucking dying to know, what  _ have _ you spent all that money on? Murphy has to have given you a shit ton at this point.” 

Evan stares at his laptop screen, rubbing his hands on his pants. “N-nothing yet it just…it feels weird.” He can feel Jared’s eyes on him and feels a panic build in his chest. “It feels weird! It’s just— it’s in a box in my closet.” 

“Sweet.” Jared stands up. 

“Jared!” 

“Okay, okay, yeah, that was kind of dicky.” Jared falls back down into the chair. “I wasn’t going to take it, I was joking. Your money dude, you earned it with your weird uh… _ situation _ .” Evan makes a face. “Don’t fucking do that with your face, you know this is weird.” 

“Shut up,” Evan mutters. He could go into a coma right now and that would be fine. 

“We can start a list of things you could buy with it.” Jared throws a piece of popcorn into the air and tries to catch it in his mouth. It bounces off his right lense and lands on the floor. “I’ll get that later. Anyway. List.” 

Evan glances to his closet. 

“One, not shitty sneakers. Two, shirts that aren’t polos. Three, so much candy. Four, a video game. Five, multiple video games even, I don’t know how much money you have. Six, something nice for your mom cause you’re a real momma’s boy. Seven, a fuck ton of yugioh cards—” 

“Yugioh cards?” Evan interrupts. 

“Yes.” Jared throws a piece of popcorn at Evan. “Let me finish.” 

Evan shakes his head. “I think I get it.” He closes his laptop and swings his legs over the side of the bed. “You don’t want the money sitting in my closet.” 

“No shit.” Jared tosses Evan the chocolate bar. “You can have half. But yeah, you’ve got money, dude, it’s not gonna fucking collect interest if it’s in the back of your closet or anything. You’re spending all this time doing this bullshit job, why not actually use what you get paid?” 

Evan opens the chocolate bar and breaks it in half before handing the half in the packaging back to Jared. “I-I already told you. It feels…weird. I don’t know.” 

“You know,” Jared says as he takes the chocolate, “this is kind of a sugar daddy situation.” 

Evan immediately goes red. “Oh my god.”  

“Minus the sex stuff,” Jared says casually. “And the age difference, cause I don’t think Murphy is that much older you, is he?” 

Evan is ready to melt into the ground. Or die. Or both. Both would be perferrable. “Jared, please—”

“Sugar buddy,” Jared says, snapping his fingers. “Connor is your sugar buddy.” 

“This is the worst.” 

Jared takes a bite of chocolate. “Do you have a better name for this?” 

Friendship? Evan wants to just call it friendship. That’s totally not the case but—

“We can call it platonic prostitution if you want.” 

“If you say that again I am kicking you out of my house.” 

Jared holds up his hands in surrender. “Valid. That is totally valid.” 

Evan starts breaking up his half the chocolate bar into smaller pieces. “I just… I don’t know. It’s weird. It’s a weird situation. But let’s not call it…that.” 

“Yeah,” Jared agrees. “Fucking weirdass… Kind of regret helping out with it, honestly. It feels like a trainwreck I can’t look away from.” 

“Really comforting there, Jared,” Evan mutters.  

Jared spins in the desk chair. “I’m just saying, what started out as a funny ha ha losers thing has gotten decidedly less funny.” 

Evan furrows his eyebrows. “What was this funny?” 

“Dude, come on, at least the first week was fucking hilarious,” Jared says with a crooked smile. It seems forced, but it’s still there.

Evan grimaces. “It wasn’t.” 

Jared loses the smile. “Okay. It wasn’t funny, my bad.” 

Evan makes a strangled sound. “Do you talk to Connor?” Some of the chocolate is starting to melt. He pops a piece of it into his mouth. 

Jared snorts. “Hell no. We coexist, are you really going to ask more of us?” 

“No,” Evan admits. “But if I tell you something, you won’t tell him?” 

Jared gives him a weird look. “Tell him?” 

Evan stares at him with wide eyes. “You’re already judging me!” 

“No I’m not!” 

“Yes you are!” 

Jared throws his hands in the air. “I don’t even know what I would be judging you for!” 

“I want Connor to stop paying me.” 

Jared stares at Evan. 

Evan’s hands start to sweat and his heart races. He looks down at the chocolate in the palm of his hand and eats it before it can melt any more. He wipes his hands on his pants. Then he wipes them again. 

“Yeah, no shit,” Jared says once the silence is too long and too awkward and too uncomfortable. 

Evan groans and collapses on the bed. “I just—” 

“Want to be friends?” Jared offers. 

“Um…yes, but also—” 

Jared sits up straighter. “You didn’t.” 

Evan pulls on his fingers. “I…what?” 

“You’re in love with him!” Jared shouts. 

“No!” Evan almost falls off the bed as he scrambles to his feet. “No, I don’t—” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! It’s just— it’s just a crush oh my god, Jared.” 

Jared raises his eyebrows. “You said crush.” 

Evan’s face gets hot. “Uh, yeah I— it-it’s not… I mean… I don’t think… It’s not like a big…deal? Or anything?”  

Jared stares at him. “Evan, it’s a big deal.” 

Evan laughs awkwardly. “W-we don’t have to make it one.” 

Jared squints. “Okay… I still have to kick your ass in Mario Kart. You ready?” 

Evan takes a breath. “You’ve never been able to beat me, Jare. Especially since you keep choosing Rainbow Road.” 

Jared jumps out of his seat. “Hell  _ yeah _ I do, I’m going to mop the floor with your  _ blood _ .” 

Evan smiles. “Okay. If you say so.” 

—«·»—  


Jared loses. He swears aggressively as he reaches for his wallet to buy dinner. 

“I hate you,” he hisses as he shoves a box of mozzarella sticks at Evan. 

“Thanks,” Evan says. “Let me know when you want a rematch.” 

Jared flips him off and grabs his sandwich off the table. 

—«·»—  


Heidi comes home as Jared is getting ready to leave. “Jared!” she says in surprise as she puts her bag down on the kitchen table. “I had no idea you were coming over.” 

Evan and Jared look up from the television. 

“Hey, Heidi, just wanted to steal your TV.” Jared tosses his Wii controller onto the couch. 

“Your bag is still in my room,” Evan reminds him. 

Jared shoots a fingergun at him. “Thanks.” 

“Don’t leave on my account,” Heidi says, pulling her hair out of its ponytail. 

“Nah, I have homework,” Jared says. “The moms want me home soon anyway.” He checks his phone and makes a face. “Yeah I should go, but thanks for letting me invade your house.” 

“Anytime, Jared,” she says. 

Jared grabs his bag from Evan’s room and bumps his shoulder against Evan’s as he goes to leave, wiggling his eyebrows. 

Evan rolls his eyes. “ _ Shut up _ ,” he whispers. 

Jared mimes zipping his lips. “See you tomorrow in hell.” 

When Jared is gone, Evan finds his mom doing the dishes in the kitchen. “Can I help?” he asks. 

She holds out a pot. “Dry and put away?” 

Evan nods and takes it from her. 

“It’s nice that you’re hanging out with Jared again,” Heidi muses. She washes a cup and sets it aside for Evan.

“Hm?” Evan dries off the pot and puts it in the cabinet next to the oven. 

“You and Jared. You haven’t really spent a lot of time with him lately.” 

“Oh.” Evan grabs the cup. “He’s been over. We…hang out and stuff.” 

“That’s great.” She smiles at him. “It’s good that you have a friend.” 

“Friends,” Evan corrects quickly, feeling guilt twist his stomach. He should be better at this. This friend thing. He should be making more progress than he has. 

Heidi looks at him in surprise. “You’ve never mentioned anyone else before.”  

“Uh, yeah.” Evan keeps his eyes on the dishes he’s drying. “Connor.” He says it and then tries not to think about it. “And um…Alana?” 

“Oh!” Heidi puts down the dish soap. “Well that’s great! We should try to have dinner with them sometimes.” 

Evan ducks his head. “ _ Mom _ .” 

“I want to meet your friends!” 

“I— uh…okay, I’ll um, ask them about it.” Evan decides he should never speak again. He keeps digging his holes deeper and deeper.

* * *

 

Evan talks with Connor by his locker. He walks with Connor in the halls. He smiles and laughs and pretends his chest isn’t constricting. 

Connor looks at him and sometimes it feels real. 

The ten isn’t in Evan’s pocket anymore, but Evan can still feel it’s presence. 

They sit together at lunch and Connor pokes at Evan’s jello with a straw and Evan tries to keep his heartrate under control. Connor rambles on about something that happened in AP Lit — which is apparently the only class he pays attention to in any way — and Evan mostly just nods. Connor keeps looking at him and he kind of feels like dying. 

Evan feels like he’s dying and then Connor smiles at him and it’s better and it’s worse and Evan hates every part of his existence. 

Connor bumps his shoulder against Evan’s and the butterflies in Evan’s stomach flutter. 

—«·»—  


Evan sits at his desk and does homework. He hates it but it gives him something to do. His phone buzzes from where it’s plugged in next to his bed. Evan glances at his Spanish textbook. He gets up and checks his messages.

**From: Connor** ****  
**To: Evan** **  
**      can i call? 

Evan’s throat immediately feels like it’s closing him. There’s an anchor wrapped around him and it’s dragging him down. Down down down—

He tries to type out a response but his hands are shaking. 

Another message pops up on the screen. 

**From: Connor** ****  
**To: Evan** ****  
     fuck its not bad shit i just realized how that sounds   
     im home alone and larry just got back and i dont want to talk to him   
     if im on the phone hell probably leave me alone

Evan takes a deep breath and presses his palms against his eyes. It’s fine. It really is fine. 

He replies as fast as he can, but it still takes him a minute to calm down. 

**From: Evan** ****  
**To: Connor** **  
**      YEah fo course sorry for takin g so long to rpely

Connor’s response is almost immediate. 

**From: Connor** ****  
**To: Evan** ****  
     you didnt take long at all ev youre fine   
     sorry if i scared you   
     gonna call now

Evan stares at the screen of his phone. As soon as ‘Incoming call from Connor’ pops up, he hits answer. 

“Hello?” Evan sits down on the edge of his bed and grips the blankets. 

“ _ Hey _ ,” Connor says. He sounds kind of tired. “ _ Sorry if I freaked you out, didn’t think before I sent that _ .” 

“It’s fine,” Evan promises. He doesn’t want to think about it anymore. A moment of panic. They can move on. “W-what do you want to, um, to talk about?” 

“ _ Don’t really know _ ,” Connor admits. “ _ Nice to talk to you, you sound different over the phone _ .” 

Evan smiles. “So do you.” Connor’s voice sounds a bit deeper. Maybe rougher. “Someone thought I was a dad once when I had to call to cancel an appointment.” 

“ _ What? _ ” There’s laughter in Connor’s voice and it makes Evan’s head spin. “ _ How the fuck? _ ” 

“I don’t know. I-I just— I was trying to cancel and they were like ‘the patient’ and I was confused but was too scared to ask and then they asked my relation to the patient and were like ‘are you his father?’ and I was just kind of like… Well no, I’m the patient.” 

Connor snorts. “ _ Amazing. I’m proud of you for cancelling your son’s appointment _ .” 

Evan leans back on his hands. “N-no they— we sorted it out. I almost threw up afterward but uh…probably could’ve gone worse.” 

“ _ Phone calls aren’t your thing, huh? _ ” Connor asks. “ _ Sorry for making you do this. If it’s easier for you we can stop _ .” 

Evan shakes his head and then realizes that Connor can’t see him. “No it’s fine. Really, it’s okay with you. It’s nice.” Whoops that was more than he was supposed to share.   

“ _ Okay, if you’re sure. Let me know if you want to hang up _ .” 

“Of course,” Evan murmurs. “Uh… I asked you this like…three hours ago, but how was your day?” 

“ _ Pretty shit _ ,” Connor admits. “ _ Right now I’m uh….eating grapes. _ ” 

“Well that’s good. You didn’t eat lunch.” 

“ _ I never eat lunch _ .” 

Evan hums. “Okay, that’s true.” 

“ _ What about you? _ ” Connor asks. “ _ Have you eaten anything today other than shitty cafeteria food? _ ” 

“Uh…no,” Evan says slowly. “I’m not super hungry.” 

“ _ Get a drink or something for me _ .” 

Evan smiles. “Are you trying to parent me?” 

“ _ Fuck, Zoe’s rubbing off on me, isn’t she? How the fuck? _ ” Evan imagines Connor dragging his hand through his hair. 

“Her and your mom,” Evan points out. “They aren’t that different, you know.” 

There’s a slight pause. “ _ I guess you’re right. I don’t notice that shit. Zoe’s just…Zoe. I don’t know _ .” 

“Outsider’s perspective,” Evan suggests. “I also don’t live with them, so I might be wrong.” 

“ _ Huh. _ ” There’s a pause. “ _ Okay but hydration _ .”

“I’m going,” Evan promises. He stands up from his bed and heads down the stairs. “Are  _ you _ staying hydrated?” 

Connor clears his throat. “ _ Uh… _ ” Evan smiles as he hears Connor’s bed squeak as Connor stands up. “ _ Yeah of course. _ ” 

“You’re going to get a drink, aren’t you?” Evan asks. He walks into the kitchen and pulls a cup from the cupboard. 

“ _ No _ ,” Connor says quickly. “ _ Definitely not _ .” 

“Okay.” Evan fills the cup with water and takes a sip. “So uh…sports?” 

Something on Connor’s end shuts. “ _ I’m gay _ .” 

Evan rolls his eyes. “Okay. Then you choose the conversation starter.” 

“ _ Okay. Did you know that eggplants are fruits? _ ” 

“Yeah.” 

“ _ Fuck there goes my fun fact. _ ” 

Evan laughs. “I’m sure you can think of something else.” 

“ _ Don’t have faith in me, Ev, it’ll end badly. But give me a second. _ ” Evan drinks his water as Connor thinks. “ _ Okay. Want to hear lots of random shit about Ancient Egypt? Zoe and I had a phase _ .” 

Evan sits down in a kitchen chair. “You know I do.” 

“ _ Well get comfortable, because this is going to be a while. _ ” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> youre all so optimistic about this situation in your comments, its very sweet <3
> 
> AND YES ALL THE SUGAR BUDDY STUFF WAS IN THE OUTLINE BEFORE YOU ALL POINTED THAT OUT. _i know what disaster au ive created believe me_
> 
> college prep is a step below regular english. cp english, standard, honors, ap. dont ask me why i just lived with it
> 
> [that shalom cover is real and its a parody of hello by adele and its really something](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yeeLkjLUJqQ). that evan and alana conversation was weird idk what happened there but it felt right in the moment when i was writing i think? idfk
> 
> things id like to draw or see drawn: evan in connors boots, connors weird ways of eating pizza, connor and his rad fingerless gloves freezing in below freezing temperatures while evan stands next to him all bundled up and only about 10% sympathetic
> 
> (and yes those measurements are in fahrenheit, im american) 
> 
> im too tired for more in this note so uhhhhh to be edited maybe
> 
> [tumblr](http://heavenansen.tumblr.com) is a thing i have lets yell


	10. $233

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor fucks up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha im dying! 
> 
> thank you for being patient. i have one essay left, a group project (that includes another essay :P), a final quiz, a flash fiction piece, and a final. and i'm done with my first semester of college? i'm actually...taking next semester off so...probably more consistent updates after this. phew. oh and i won nano? wild
> 
> i'm exhausted and genuinely don't like at least 75% of this chapter, but it's done. please please p l e a s e read the end notes for a little disclaimer thanks
> 
>  **warnings:** anxiety, depression, panic attacks, let me know if any other warnings should be added
> 
> enjoy~

Sometimes Connor has the really strong urge to hold Evan’s hand.

It’s a weird feeling. This desire to just reach out and take Evan’s hand in his own and not even say anything, just hold it.

Sometimes Connor thinks that romantic feelings are bullshit. Especially when it’s seven in the morning and Evan sees him waiting by the locker and lights up like the goddamn sun and Connor’s stomach tries to become an Olympic gymnast.

Like right now.

Evan stands next to Connor, their arms almost touching, as he talks to Alana. They’re still trying to figure out a name for their club, because for whatever reason, Alana refuses to use The Fuck Project.

Jared thinks it’s hilarious, which has somehow worked _against_ the name.

Alana is going on about the details. Evan nods, and he probably knows what’s going on, but Connor’s zoned out. Alana has this in the bag and also Connor isn’t actually involved in their little pet project. Even if the initial idea did come from Alana being way too fucking nosy.

She’s nice when she’s not picking Connor’s brain.

So Alana and Evan talk and Connor stands and people pass them and time until the next class starts ticks down and down and down. It’s a nice moment. Weirdly calm. For once, Connor doesn’t feel entirely awful, despite where he is and everything about himself.

He still wants to hold Evan’s hand.

* * *

 

It’s not like Connor actively tries to think about it. The opposite, in fact. As soon as thoughts about dating Evan pop up, he shoves them to the very back of his brain. He quarantines them away in the darkest corners, because thinking about it hurts.

Evan has made himself a constant in Connor’s life. But a temporary constant. Which is weird and annoying and _tiring_. Sometimes Connor’s emotions bubble up inside him and threaten to spill out and then Evan will give him this look when Connor pays him and everything just vanishes. Evan looks at Connor and all Connor’s thoughts shrink back and go ‘fuck never mind’.  

That doesn’t mean that he’s actually good about not thinking it. He’s getting worse, actually. It’s turning into a mild problem.

Evan can just _look_ at Connor and Connor’s heart will flip and his mind will be consumed with ‘holy fuck I would date the _shit_ out of him’.

He would. Connor has absolutely zoned out staring at Evan on multiple occasions. He keeps passing it off as being tired and honestly it’s a miracle that Evan hasn’t started asking about Connor’s sleep schedule— which _is_ a disaster but _isn’t_ why Connor keeps staring Evan.

Connor keeps staring at Evan because his brain is a fucking traitor and likes to think about what it would be like to kiss Evan.

Of all the boys to fall in love with, Connor had to go and fall in love with Evan Hansen.

* * *

 

Connor checks his phone under his desk. It’s been facedown on his desk — he’s making an attempt in calculus because he’s doing a really shit job right now and he _has_ to pass because he literally cannot spend a day longer in this hellscape than he has to — but he can see the screen lighting up repeatedly.

 **From: Ev** **  
** **To: Connor** **  
**      AR eyou in clasright no w  
     Of cours e youre in c alss where els e wi oudl you b  
     Im so ryrcan you g et out ?

Connor squints at the board. There are x’s and t’s and some other bullshit that he doesn’t understand. A lot of lines and marks.

Fuck.

He opens another conversation.

 **From: dickbag** **  
** **To: assface** **  
**      you any good at calc?

Jared replies surprisingly fast. Actually, not so surprisingly. Connor is actually not surprised at all that Jared uses his phone in class.

 **From: assface** **  
** **To: dickbag** **  
**      ive got a mean b in calc bc  
     y

Connor raises his hand and asks to go to the bathroom. The teacher waves him out the door and keeps teaching.

 **From: dickbag**   **  
** **To: assface**   **  
**      i have to do something and i need to not fail  
     you willing to tell me what the fuck is happening?

 **From: Connor** **  
** **To: Ev** **  
**      where are you? got out of class

Connor heads to the bathroom, because he’s already on the third floor and that’s where Evan was last time. And it’s the closest bathroom. His phone buzzes in his hand as he hurries through the hall and he tries not to groan when it’s just Jared.

 **From: assface**   **  
** **To: dickbag**   **  
**      no promises but i can try  
     dont know y ur coming to me lmao  
     also i charge $10/hr

 **From: dickbag**   **  
** **To: asskface**    
     fine but youre a dick **  
**

Connor pushes the bathroom door open. The lights are on, someone’s been in here in the past ten minutes, but the bathroom is empty. He drags his hand through his hair and catches a look at himself in the mirror.

Wow. He looks like shit.

Connor rubs his face and checks his phone again. It’s been buzzing, but it’s just been Jared.

 **From: assface**   **  
** **To: dickbag**   **  
**      not news  
     whats so important that ur running out of class??  
     o shit drugs?  
     420 blaze it  
     i dont kno weed culture

As Connor scrolls through Jared’s messages, a text from Evan pops up on the top of his screen.

 **From: Ev** **  
** **To: Connor** **  
**      J aanito s clostesecond follr

Connor runs into a wide eyed freshman as he hurries out of the bathroom and swings around a corner to get to the stairs. He only vaguely knows where that closet it, because he’s never had a reason to pay attention to it. Janitor’s closets are usually locked and it’s not like Connor is observant when it comes to his surroundings.

He skips the last few steps and just jumps down to the landing, slowing to a fast walk as he searches the hallway for the janitor’s closet. He finds it tucked into a corner between two classrooms. He glances up and down the hallway before he knocks softly. He tries the handle and knocks again before he pulls the door open.

“Evan?” he asks softly into the darkened closet. Light from the hallway spills into the darkness, barely brushing Evan’s shoes. Evan is huddled into the corner furthest away from the door, squished between shelves, on the ground with his knees pulled to his chest and his arms covering his head.

Connor stares for a minute, listening to Evan’s ragged breathing, before he steps into the closet. He turns on his phone’s flashlight and covers it with his hand before pulling the door closed. He lets some light slip through his fingers and finds a bottle of Windex on one of the shelves. He puts his phone under it and the room glows blue. Maybe life hacks aren’t always as shitty as they seem.

Connor sits down on the floor next to Evan. “Ev,” he whispers. “Can I help?”

Evan doesn’t look up. After a few seconds he stops holding on to his hair so tightly and holds a shaking hand out to Connor. Connor takes it. Almost immediately, Evan’s hand clenches around Connor’s, squeezing Connor’s fingers tightly. Connor moves over so the position is less awkward and lightly squeezes Evan’s hand back. 

Connor sits and waits, because he doesn’t really know what else to do. He watches Evan’s breathing and tries not to let his mind wander too much, because it’s too early in the day for any of that shit.

Evan loosens his grip on Connor’s hand and the tension seems to run out of his body. He sags against the wall and slowly lifts his head from his knees. He pulls his hand away. “S-sor-sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Connor says. His voice sounds weirdly rough. He clears it and stretches out his fingers.

Evan stares at them. “I— i-if I hurt your…your hand I didn’t mean to I just—”

“You didn’t,” Connor interrupts quickly. “See?” He wiggles his fingers. “Work just fine.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Do you…uh, want to talk about it?”

Evan makes a strangled sound. “N-nothing to… I mean there’s always—” He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand. “D-dr. Sherman always says that— that there’s something? And I just don’t u-understand what so I’m…supposed to process it. But I just…”

“I think it’s a fucking lot to ask you to process shit right after a panic attack,” Connor says flatly.

Evan shrugs helplessly. “I don’t— I-I forget. I forget what I’m— what I feel in the moment a-and what I was thinking and then when she asks what was going through my mind I can’t tell her and then I feel worse and like a failure and I think I’m supposed to be getting better because I go to therapy and I take meds and—” Evan cuts himself off to take a deep breath. “It takes time,” Evan says softly. “It takes time. It takes time and it’ll get better it just—”

“Takes time?” Connor asks.

Evan smiles at him weakly. “Y-yeah.”

The bell rings, slightly muffled. Evan goes tense.

Connor thinks about his calculus teacher. She probably won’t be thrilled that he skipped out on the rest of class, but whatever. Maybe he’ll do homework for once and try to get back on her disinterested side.

“Your mom is working right now, isn’t she?” Connor asks slowly.

Evan nods. “Yeah, she’s a-always working. Pretty much.”

“We’ve still got three classes to get through.” Connor bumps their knees together. “Can you hide out in the nurse’s office or something? I’d say just leave, but…” Evan shakes his head. “Yeah, exactly. I don’t know shit about doing things the ‘right’ way.”

“I’ll…be okay,” Evan says.

Connor stares at him.

“It’s-it’s really fine,” Evan insists.

“ _Ev_ —”

“I’ve done it before, it’s not a big… I’ll just— it’s okay, really.”

“You aren’t taking the bus home today,” Connor says. He gets to his feet and takes the Windex off of his phone. “Light warning.” Evan covers his eyes. Connor flicks the light on and winces in the brightness before shutting off his flashlight. He slides his phone into his pocket and offers Evan his hand.

Evan takes it and lets Connor haul him to his feet. “Y-you don’t have to—”

“Fuck the bus,” Connor interrupts. “Zoe has a perfectly good car.”

Evan blinks. “Doesn’t she have rehearsal today?”

“How do you know my sister’s schedule better than I do?” Connor opens the door of the closet and peers out into the hallway. They have to be careful, because high school is fucking hell. Most people won’t give a shit and don’t pay attention _to_ shit, but all it takes is one person assuming something. When no one is looking, he steps out of the closet and pulls Evan along, walking away from the closet quickly and melting into the thinning crowd. “So what if we have to wait for her to get out, just hang around with me for a little bit.”

As soon as Connor says it, his stomach twists. “I don’t have any today but—”

Evan stops walking, yanking Connor back a bit. They’re still holding hands. Connor pulls his away and puts his hands in the pocket of his sweatshirt.

“D-don’t,” Evan says.

Connor furrows his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“You’re already— you’re doing me a favor by…by driving me home. So you don’t have to…” Evan gestures with his hands. “Debt paid. It’s— you’re fine.”  
Connor stares at him. “I— okay.”

Evan takes a step back. “I have to… I have class. I’ll see you after.” He spins on his heel and walks down the hallway, dodging other students before disappearing around a corner.

—«·»—

Connor drops into his seat in the back of AP Literature and puts his head down on his desk.

He needs to think about something — anything — other than Evan. Evan is supposed to be the one who thinks himself into an anxious spiral, not Connor. And Connor can’t help but feel like something is horribly wrong.

But, fuck, he wouldn’t stop their arrangement for anything. He’ll keep paying Evan to put up with him in the halls for as long as he possibly can, just to see Evan smile.

He wants to see Evan smile today. Anything other than the empty expression he had on his face when he walked away from Connor earlier.

Alana sits down next to Connor. Sometimes Connor forgets him and Alana talk now, even if it’s only because she’s Evan’s friend and probably thinks this is a good way to keep tabs on Evan. All she’s ever wanted from Connor is information, anyway.

Connor stares out the window at the icy field hockey field spread out in front of the school as the teacher starts the lesson. Something about the essay they have due in a few days at midnight.

Alana hands over her essay, printed and typed, five pages long double spaced and stapled in the corner. “It’s just a rough draft,” she says.

Connor blinks at the paper. “Uh…were we supposed to…”

She shakes her head. “No, we just needed to have an outline today.” She adjusts her glasses and opens a notebook. “But if you didn’t—”

“I did,” Connor says quickly. He actually did for once. “Here.” He pulls out his notebook and flips through pages and pages of shitty sketches to the section where he just stuffs any loose papers he’s handed. He pulls out the outline and smooths it out a little. “Don’t expect anything.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Alana says as she takes it from him.

Connor squints at her. “I did this while high so it’s either a brilliant disaster or just a fucking mess.”

Alana grins. “I hope it’s a brilliant disaster.”

“Probably not.”

She just shrugs and pulls out a pen, tapping it on her notebook as she skims over the outline. Connor turns to Alana’s essay and starts reading. Alana likes words and complex sentences. She’s good at backing up her points with evidence from the text, and doesn’t dance around her conclusions. She has a structure and logic to her essay that Connor’s never been able to achieve. He just sort of says words until he feels like he’s done.

He reads her fourth paragraph a few times, picking at his nail polish as he does so. He glances over to Alana and then reads it again.

She’s scribbling on his outline when he looks back to her. She meets his eyes. “Something wrong?”

Connor’s eyes flick from her to her essay. “Uh…no.”

Alana rolls her eyes and hands him her pen. “Fix it. Whatever it is. That’s the entire point of peer review.”

“I could be wrong—” Connor starts, but Alana holds up a hand to stop him.

“I’ll decide what to do with your feedback. Just do it.”

Connor nods slowly and hesitates with the pen hovering over the paper. “What are you doing, by the way?”

“Translating.”

“What?”

Alana pulls another pen from her backpack and uncaps it. “Your outline is good, you have some really good ideas in here, it’s just lost in the typos and grammar.”

“I can figure it out,” Connor says. “You don’t have to do that shit.”

Alana raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

Connor blinks. “…not anymore?”

She nods firmly. “Exactly. You edit mine, I’ll edit yours. You won’t hurt my feelings, please, feel free to rip it to shreds.”

Connor exhales slowly. “Okay, Beck. Whatever.” He strikes out a sentence. “Whatever you say.”    

—«·»—

Connor meets Evan by Evan’s locker. They lock eyes and for a second everything feels weird. And then Jared shows up.

Connor has never been relieved to see Jared Kleinman before.

“What’s up?” Jared asks, clapping a hand on Evan’s shoulder. “My…main bros.”

Connor rolls his eyes. “Don’t call me that.”

“Alright, crossing that off the list.” Jared gives Evan a look and Evan shrugs. Connor looks between them and shifts his weight to his other foot. “Anyway, you free on Saturday?” he asks Evan.

Evan blinks. “Y-yes?”

“My moms wanted you over for dinner. They’re going to try to harass Heidi into coming too but,” Jared shrugs, “we know how that is.”

Evan smiles and ducks his head. “I-I mean— yeah that’d be…that’d be nice. Um, I can…ask my mom?”

“Nice.” Jared holds his fist out for a fist bump. Evan rolls his eyes and knocks their knuckles together. “Okay, text me, cause if she’s working, I’ll swing by and pick you up.”

Evan nods. “O-okay, I will.”

“Sweet, got to dash or I’ll never get out of here.” Jared shoots finger guns at Connor. “See, ya Murph,” he says before sprinting down the hallway.

Connor lifts a hand to wave goodbye as jealousy twists in his stomach. It makes him feel gross. He swallows it and turns to Evan. “So, uh…we can probably hide in a practice room until Zoe’s done.”

Evan pulls on the straps of his backpack. “A-are they, um, open? Because I know, I mean I’ve heard because sometimes the band kids in my classes complain about this, that they lock? Or get locked? So…”

“We can…check?” Connor suggests.

Evan nods. “That’s…probably a good idea.”

Connor leads Evan down to the music wing. The first two practice rooms are locked, but the third that they try is unlocked. Connor raises his eyebrows at Evan and pushes the door open. The lights flicker on automatically and Evan closes the door behind them.

All four of the practice rooms are the same in Connor’s experience, a keyboard and bench, a trash, and maybe a stand or chair that someone has dragged in. Except one, that for some reason, has two pianos. They lucked out and that is exactly the room they’re in. Less room, but it doesn’t really matter.

Evan puts his bag down on one of the piano benches and then sits on the floor in the space between the end of the piano and the wall.

Connor coughs. “Uh…are you…okay?” He winces. Yikes.

“Tired,” Evan says softly.

Connor glances to the light switch before pressing the button to turn off the lights. There’s still a decent amount of light from the window in the door, but it’s darker. Connor puts down his bag and joins Evan on the floor. Evan looks up at him.

“Take a nap,” Connor suggests.

Evan blinks at him.

Connor sighs. “Scoot over.”

Evan moves so he’s as close to the piano as he can get. Connor squeezes into the space between Evan and the wall. There’s way more space in these practice rooms than it seems, the pianos make them look small.

Connor pulls on the sleeve of Evan’s sweatshirt. “Just lean on me. More comfortable than the wall, probably, though I’m basically all bone.”

“Y-you sure?”

Connor rolls his eyes because it feels right. “I wouldn’t be offering if I wasn’t. Close your eyes, Ev.”

“Okay,” Evan whispers. He rests his head on Connor’s shoulder. “Wake me up if your arm falls asleep.”

“Sure,” Connor lies.

A few minutes later, Evan’s breathing starts to even out. When Connor is sure that he’s asleep, he carefully pulls his phone out of his pocket.

 **From: C** **  
** **To: Z** **  
**      waiting in practice room c  
     evans napping so dont come in just knock or some shit

Once he’s sent the texts, he puts his phone down and turns his attention back to Evan. Connor turns his head to look down at Evan, and when his nose brushes Evan’s hair, his heart goes into double time.

Fuck.

—«·»—

Connor thinks he’s drifted off when Zoe finally knocks on the door. He inhales sharply and sits up straighter, eyes wide. He leans forward to see Zoe standing in front of the door with her guitar on her back and her saxophone in hand.

He leans back and sighs. Okay.

Connor shakes Evan’s shoulder. “Ev, Ev wake up. Zoe’s done.”

Evan groans and blinks blearily. “Huh?”

Connor’s breath catches in his throat. He finds himself lost in Evan’s sleepy eyes for a moment too long and hopes Evan’s still too asleep to notice. “Zoe,” he says. “We can go home now.”

“Oh.” Evan pulls himself to his feet using the piano. About halfway up, he grabs Connor’s arm and pulls Connor up as well.

They grab their bags and open the door.

“Sleep well?” Zoe asks with a smirk.

Connor flips her off behind Evan.

Evan shrugs. “I-it was the floor.”

Connor takes Zoe’s saxophone from her. “Let’s go. I have an essay to write.”

Zoe blinks. “You do?”

“Unfortunately,” he grumbles.

The parking lot is blissfully empty when they step outside. The air is bitter and cold, and Connor wishes that it would just snow more than half an inch so the burning cold is worth it. He grabs Evan’s arm when Evan slips on ice and Zoe makes an offhanded comment about driving and black ice.

“You know?” she says to Evan.

Evan blinks. “N-no, I don’t— I don’t drive?”

Zoe frowns. “Do you take the bus?”

Evan turns pink, and Connor wonders if he’s redder because of the cold or not. “Yeah, it’s…yeah.”

Zoe looks to Connor.

“What?” Connor asks.

“What time does the bus pick you up?” Zoe asks.

“Uh…” Evan slows his walk. “I— around like…6:35?”

Zoe purses her lips. “Okay. Monday? We can swing by and pick you up.” She twirls her car keys around her finger. “Unless you hate my music choices as much as Connor does.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Evan says quickly.

“Too late,” Zoe sing songs. She unlocks the car and pops the trunk open. She puts her guitar in and then takes her saxophone from Connor. “We’d be happy to, right Connor?”

“Duh,” Connor says. “The bus is bullshit.”

“Good for the environment,” Evan says. “P-public transport!”

“We’re already using this car.” Zoe slams the trunk shut. “So it doesn’t actually matter. No additional cars on the road, just one less Evan on the bus.”

“Uh…”

“Sleep on it.” She rubs her arms. “Let’s go before I freeze.” She glances to Connor as she moves to the driver’s side. “How are you alive?”

Connor shrugs and pulls open the car door. He slides into the backseat next to Evan. “Can’t feel cold if you’re dead inside.”

Zoe twists around in her seat to glare at him before shutting the door. She turns on the car, blasts the heat even though it’s just air at the moment, and plugs her phone in. “Today we’re listening to Billy Joel,” she announces. “Get over it Connor.”

Connor just leans his forehead against the cold window as Uptown Girl plays from the speakers.

Zoe asks for directions a few times, but for the most part, they drive in silence aside from the Billy Joel in the slowly warming car.

Connor sits up when they arrive at Evan’s. “I’ll text you,” he says.

Evan gives him a smile. “Y-yeah. Thanks for the ride.”

“I’ll see you Monday at 6:40!” Zoe calls out before he shuts the door. She turns to look at Connor. “You moving up?”

“I guess.” Connor unbuckles and climbs over the center consul to get into the passenger seat. He buckles back in and Zoe backs out of the driveway.

“So…” she says slowly. “You and Evan.”

“What about us?” Connor asks flatly.

Zoe glances to him. “Anything…up?”

“Do you want me to say it?”

“No, but I can’t stop you from doing shit.”

“The sky.”

Zoe rolls her eyes. “Great, now that that’s out of the way—”

“Nothing,” Connor interrupts. “Can’t two people be friends?”

“Well, yeah, obviously.” Zoe taps on the steering wheel. “You just seem like _more_ than that.”

Connor scoffs. More like barely that. “We aren’t.”

“Do you _want_ to be?”

Connor stares at the road. “The light is green.”

* * *

 

Connor spends most of his Saturday writing his paper. Because Alana had written all over his outline and now he feels obligated to make something half decent out of the genius she turned his bullshit into. Also, she shared her essay with him on google docs the night before for him to edit — he does not know why the fuck she did that and hates the fact that school emails are standardized so she didn’t even have to ask for his email — and offered to edit his in return. He’s not going to give up that opportunity. He’s doing fine in english but another solid essay grade can get his parents to calm down for at least a day.

He texts Evan and draws when he’s not writing. The other weekend, Cynthia dragged him off to the store with her, so he threw a cheap set of kids’ watercolors in the cart. And a box of Capri sun. He sits on his floor and drinks a Capri sun while he waits for a painting to dry. Evan is making lunch right now, so it’ll be a few minutes before he responds. Evan doesn’t usually text Connor while he’s making food, apparently the risk of fire is higher than normal, and that’s not just Evan’s anxiety talking.

Evan had texted him the night before thanking him for the ride home. Connor had replied ‘what are friends for’ and then threw his phone across the room so he didn’t have to read Evan’s response. It didn’t end up mattering, because Evan’s next text wasn’t sent until this morning, and it was a frantic apology because he fell asleep before responding.

Connor just said it was fine and changed the subject as fast as he could.

Connor sighs and gets to his feet. As he waits for the painting to dry, he’s really fucking impatient, he takes pictures of some of his least shitty doodles from class and posts them on a randomass tumblr he made after Evan suggested posting his art online. Mostly Connor did it out of curiosity, he didn’t really use the site otherwise, just posts drawings and then vanishes for a few days, but it’s also good because it means he has somewhere where all his art was stored digitally. He might’ve accidentally spilt a mug of coffee all over a notebook the other day. And he distinctly remembers setting a few sketchbooks on fire back in middle school.

 **From: Ev** **  
** **To: Connor** **  
**      Back ! ANd I didnt evne burn anything

Connor smiles to himself and leans against his bed.

 **From: Connor** **  
** **To: Ev** **  
**      congrats you now have the cooking skills of a 12 year old

 **From: Ev** **  
** **To: Connor** **  
**      :((

Connor hesitates before typing out his next message. He really shouldn’t ask — it’s a fucking terrible idea on so many levels — but it’s been slowly eating away at him. Which doesn’t make sense. But whatever.

 **From: Connor** **  
** **To: Ev** **  
**      doesnt matter though i mean youre having dinner tonight wth jared right??

He puts his phone on his desk and goes back to painting and tries not to think about it for a few minutes. It’s not fair of him to get jealous. Because Jared is trying to get better. He’s still a dick but there’s an attempt there.

Connor hasn’t changed anything.

He sits on the floor and works on the painting. Now that he has slightly less shitty watercolors, they’re still pretty garbage but they aren’t old and mostly gone, he uses way too much purple again.

Whatever.

He doesn’t check his phone again until he has to wait for more paint to dry. He’s tempted to grab a sketchbook and keep ignoring it, but that’s not fair to Evan.

 **From: Ev** **  
** **To: Connor** **  
**      Oh  y eah  
     We used to ha ve dinner a lot togethe r when ew wer elittle  
     All oru moms were friends  
     Kinda weird that were doing it again but… NIce?? Hopefull y ?  
     My mom s ocming which is nice  
     She hasnt been home ofr a few nights so yeah

Connor takes a slow breath before replying.

 **From: Connor** **  
** **To: Ev** **  
**      thats pretty cool  
     i hope its fun and the food doesnt suck

Evan replies almost immediately, even though Connor took almost twenty minutes to respond.

 **From: Ev** **  
** **To: Connor** **  
**      Thnk you!!!  
     Jareds moms are really good cook sso itll be good I think  
     I hope dinner goes ok for you tonight !! Good luck :)

Connor stares at the smiley face and falls on his bed with a groan.

—«·»—

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Evan lately,” Larry says, pushing quinoa around his plate.

Connor resists the urge to roll his eyes. They never really talked about that. Sometimes, when Zoe goes over a friend’s house or has a friend over, Connor will give Larry a very pointed look and Larry will find something on his phone fascinating. An amazing double standard.

And, like? Of course he spends time with Evan. They’re best friends— pretending to be best friends. Connor doesn’t know how to get that through Larry’s thick skull.

Evan is Connor’s best friend.

“Well yeah,” Connor says, stabbing a piece of kale with his fork. “He’s my boyfriend.”

Wait, shit— 

Zoe chokes on her drink.

“What?!” Larry practically shouts, silverware hitting the table.

Connor opens his mouth to explain that technically, no, they aren’t boyfriends, though they are friends who are boys, even if sometimes Evan looks at him and makes Connor feel like he’s turning to putty. But they aren’t actually—

He glances to his mom with wide eyes. “Mom? Are you okay?”

Cynthia smiles, eyes watering. “I’m just so happy for you, sweetie!”

Connor slowly looks around the table. His mother crying tears of joy, his father staring at him in shock, his sister trying to bite back a smile.

Connor needs to talk to Evan immediately.

They’re fucked.

—«·»—

Connor grabs Zoe’s before she can disappear into her bedroom. She stiffens and he pulls his hand away. “Sorry.”

“You’re fine.” She crosses her arms. “I thought you told me nothing was going on between you and Evan.” She raises her eyebrows.

Connor grimaces. “I— don’t tell Evan.”

Zoe tilts her head. “Don’t tell Evan…you’re dating?”

Fuck. “No, no, fuck.” Connor frantically searches his mind. “I, uh, we weren’t going to…tell people? Yet? And I…fucked that up. So don’t— don’t mention it to him until like he says something or whatever, okay?”

Zoe mimes zipping her lips. “Secret’s safe with me. But also, I fucking knew it.”

Connor forces a laugh and runs his hand through his hair. “Yeah. You did.”

Zoe goes back into her room and Connor grabs his phone and goes down to the basement. He wonders if he can get his door back for Hanukkah, but for now, this is the only private place he’s got. He would lock himself in the bathroom, but that’s still way too close to the rest of his family members for comfort.

He flicks on the light as he heads down the stairs and grabs a blanket off the back of one of the chairs. The basement is about half finished and has been since Connor was in middle school. One of those projects that Larry never got around to finishing. Now they mostly use it for storage and hanging out when it gets too hot in the summer and even central air isn’t working well enough. Him and Zoe used to camp out for weeks in the basement on air mattresses and stay up way past their bedtimes giggling.

Now it’s December. He hasn’t been down here since he punched the far wall when everyone else was asleep. Him and Zoe haven’t spent time together in here in years. They haven’t done much together in years.

Connor wraps himself in a blanket and sits down in one of the old oversized chairs. They’re only down here because the went out of style and were deemed unworthy for the living room.

He unlocks his phone, scrolls through his contacts, and presses call. Then he listens to the phone ring and hopes that they’re done with dinner at the Kleinmans’ while he waits for the call to be answered.

“ _Hello?_ ”

Connor grits his teeth. “Hi. I…might need help.”

“ _Is it about Evan?_ ”

Connor frowns. “Why do you assume it’s about Evan?” It is but—

Jared laughs. “ _Dude, we aren’t friends. The only reason you talk to me is because of Evan. What’s up?_ ”

Connor blinks. He’s just gotten so used to having Jared constantly around that it’s like they’re basically friends. But not. Because Connor doesn’t have any real friends.  

“I,” Connor clears his throat, “my family now thinks Evan and I are dating.”

There’s a long pause. Connor waits for Jared to start cackling, but Jared just whispers, “ _Holy shit_.”

“Say whatever shit you want to now,” Connor mutters. “Get it out.”

“ _Holy shit_ ,” Jared repeats. Connor rolls his eyes. “ _Murphy, what the fuck_.”

“Yeah, I know, I fucked up.”

“ _What are you going to do?_ ” Jared sounds almost amazed.

Connor frowns at the phone. This is not how he thought this conversation would go. “Pay Evan two hundred dollars? I know you meant that as a joke but—”

“ _Fucking shit, my dude. What the hell!_ ”

Connor drags his hand through his hair. “Kleinman, my mom started _crying_ when I said Evan was my boyfriend, okay? I can’t— fuck. I don’t know.”

Jared whistles.

Connor picks at his nailpolish. “Would Evan…go along with it? Do you think?”  

“ _I think that’s a question for Evan._ ”

“I’m asking you.”

Jared snorts. “ _Okay, fine. I think he’ll go along with it_ .” It almost feels like Jared is going to say something more, but he doesn’t. “ _You got two hundred bucks lying around_?”

“No,” Connor admits. He has an idea. It’s a terrible idea that could backfire, but it’s an idea.

“ _So…how are you going to get it?_ ” Jared gasps. “ _Oh shit! Are we going to rob a bank?_ ”

Connor frowns. “No? Why is that the first thing you came up with? Why would you rob a bank for two hundred dollars? Wouldn’t fucking…normal robbery be easier?”

“ _Fuck off. Are we doing that?_ ”

“No.”

“ _Well we both know you’re not getting a job—_ ”

“Fuck you.”

“— _and that would probably take too long. Are we going to sell weed?_ ”

“What? No,” Connor says. “Also how long did you restrain yourself before asking that?”

“ _Too long for that boring answer and reaction_ ,” Jared admits. “ _Give me something to work with, stoner kid. We could just steal it. I know you said no, but—_ ”

“Jared what the _fuck_ ,” Connor interrupts.

“ _Dude, you aren’t offering any ideas here, I’m just trying to help out_.”

Connor rubs the bridge of his nose. “Fucking— do you know how PayPal works?”

“ _Yeah sure_ ,” Jared says. “ _Super easy, why?_ ”

Connor sighs. “Would you be willing to help me set one up?”

“ _Ten bucks_.”

“Fine.”

“ _Yeah sure, you wanted some help on calc anyway. Do you have info on your bank account, by the way?_ ”

“I…can find it,” Connor says slowly. “Does tomorrow work? My house?”

“ _Yeah sure, my man. Shoot me an address and a time. I expect snacks._ ”

* * *

 

Jared shows up on the doorstep ten minutes earlier than Connor expected with his backpack slung over one shoulder and a Starbucks drink in his left hand. “Sup.”

Connor rolls his eyes. “You’re early.”

“Fashionably.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“Whatever.”  

Zoe leans out of the dining room. “Who’s here?”

Connor steps aside to let Jared in. Jared waves at Zoe.

Zoe squints. “What are you doing here?”

“So nice to see you again too, Smaller Murphy,” Jared says. He kicks his shoes off and puts them next to Zoe’s converse.

“Calc,” Connor says. “I’m…not doing great.”

“But you aren’t failing yet,” Jared says. “So we’re just going to keep you from not doing that. What are you learning again?”

Connor shrugs. “Something implicit. I’ll show you the homework.”

Jared nods. “Chill, chill.”

“Aren’t you friends with Alana?” Zoe asks.

“I…guess?” Connor frowns. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“She’s the valedictorian, isn’t she? Why didn’t you ask her for help?”

“Uh…” Connor looks to Jared.

Jared takes a sip of his drink. “I’m genuinely offended, by the way. I’m no Alana Beck but I am _passing_ AP Calc BC, which is more than you can say for seventy percent of our class. Don’t take it.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Zoe assures him. “Just didn’t tutoring was your…thing.”

“Alana tutors,” Jared says.

“I know, that’s my point.”

“Ha ha very funny. She tutors a lot of people so it makes sense that I take someone off her workload.” Jared points to Connor. “As her friend, Connor understands.”

“Right.” Connor nods. “That.”

Zoe rolls her eyes. “I wasn’t judging you or anything I was just wondering. Have fun. Don’t set the house on fire, I’m going over Pippa’s to work on our history project, and Mom and Dad are out shopping or something.”

“I’ll keep Jared away from anything breakable,” Connor promises.

“I remind you I’m doing you a favor,” Jared says.

“You’re making me pay you.”

“Shit you’re right.”

—«·»—

“This is easy shit,” Jared says, looking up from Connor’s textbooks. “Really easy.”

Connor flips him off.

“I’ll explain it!” Jared promises. “This makes my job easier, probably. So back to real reason I’m here—”

“You _are_ here to help me with math.” Connor reaches for his laptop. “I’m going to open commissions.”

Jared stares at him with a blank expression.

“Commissions,” Connor repeats slowly.

Jared blinks. “Since when do you draw?”

“Do you actually know anything about me?” Connor asks.

Jared looks away. “Valid. How can I help?”

“Mostly just need help with PayPal. And maybe wording the post? I don’t know shit about talking to people.” Connor opens his laptop and logs in. He closes a few tabs and opens up tumblr. He hesitates and then opens his blog. “Here.”

“Your theme is awful,” Jared says flatly.

“Did I ask you?”

“Didn’t have to.” Jared clicks a few times. “Dude, if you want to be selling your art, you need a theme that isn’t painful to look at.” Connor opens his mouth to protest, but Jared holds up a hand. “I’m doing you a favor here. Give me like ten minutes. I will change your world.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

Jared pushes away in the desk chair. “Too late, I’m not helping if we don’t change this ugly ass theme. Doodle or something while I do this. Make a commissions banner, I don’t fucking know.” Jared hunches over the laptop and starts typing.

Connor stares at him. Hopefully Jared isn’t going to charge him for this too.

Forty minutes later, Connor is putting aside a random drawing and Jared is looking up from the laptop.

“Bam, motherfucker,” Jared announces spinning the laptop around. “A picture heavy theme with easy navigation, readable text, and colors that don’t make me want to stab my eyes out.” Connor leans forward to see it. It actually looks pretty decent. And pretty professional. Jared has also added a few links, including one to Connor’s still nonexistent PayPal and a commissions page. “By the way, your art is pretty rad.”

Connor blinks. “Thanks. Did you want that bank account information?”

“Yeah sure.”

Connor gets up from the floor. “Let’s break into my dad’s office.”

Jared sets aside the laptop. “Sweet.”

—«·»—

Connor sits down in the chair in Larry’s office. He pulls open one of the lower drawers in the desk and flips through the the hanging folders until he finds one with his name.

“Don’t steal my identity or anything,” he says to Jared as he hands him one of the folders. “But see if anything in there is what you need.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jared starts flipping through the papers. “Your identity is too lame to steal.”

“Thanks.”

Connor skims over various forms and papers with his name all over them. So weird that he’s attached to all of these things but doesn’t understand any of them. That might be concerning. Is he supposed to know what these mean? He squints at something that looks like it has something to do with money.

“I can’t believe you’re going through with this,” Jared mutters.

Connor looks up. “With?”

“This fake dating shit.” Jared puts a stack of papers down on the desk. “I thought this was convoluted before.”

“You helped.”

“So you two keep reminding me.” Jared flips a piece of paper over. “I think this is it.”

“Cool.” Connor puts his folder away and Jared puts Connor’s laptop on the desk. Connor fills out what he can and Jared helps with the rest.

“And you have a PayPal,” Jared announces, finishing the form. “If you click this you can transfer money to your bank account, which is how you’ll get the money off the internet and into Evan’s hands.”

Connor nods. “Makes sense.” He grabs the papers and puts them back into the folder. He puts it back in the bottom drawer and makes sure everything is just how Larry left it before he gets up from the chair.

“I genuinely didn’t think either of you would get invested in this shit,” Jared says as they stop in the kitchen to grab a bag of chips.

Connor shrugged. “I fucked up, that doesn’t mean anything.”

Jared gives him a flat look before biting into a chip. “Let’s just finish this shit so I can teach you how implicit differentiation works.”

Connor wrinkles his nose. “Fine.”

They bring the bag of chips up to Connor’s bedroom and sit on the floor with Connor’s laptop in front of them. Between handfuls of chips, Jared adds sentences to the post.

“We can’t call it ‘I’m Gay Give Me Money’,” Connor protests.

“Why not?” Jared asks. “It’s tumblr.”

“What’s your point?”

Jared pulls the laptop closer and starts typing. “We just say like… ‘I’m trying to meet my boyfriend’ — we stay vague on the details, no one wants to know the complexity of this shit and also it’s weird as fuck — ‘so I’m opening commissions’. Blah blah blah here are details…” Jared looks up at Connor. “Any suggestions for prices?”

Connor shrugs.

“You are the least helpful person,” Jared mutters. “Okay…going on what I saw on your blog…” He types rapidly for a few minutes. “And posted.”

“What?!” Connor grabs the laptop from Jared. “Why did you do that?!”

“You weren’t going to have anything to say so fuck it, it’s posted.” Jared pops another chip in his mouth. “Chill the fuck out.”

Connor reloads the page to check the post. He doesn’t have any idea if the prices are reasonable, but Jared put up Connor’s email and a link to his PayPal and tagged the post with a few tags that make sense and a few that don’t.

Connor groans. “If you fucked this up for me—”

“I didn’t,” Jared says. “I am doing you so many solids right now. And now I’m about to try to teach you calculus. I am literally a god.”  

Connor resists the urge to slam his head against the keyboard.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i cant believe connor used the l word
> 
> disclaimer: hi i'm an artist who's opened commissions on tumblr. i KNOW it's not that easy. it's really fucking hard. just...suspend some disbelief. also, for me personally, i did a piece that was $20 for a friend. 10 of those would hit 200. i didn't bother figuring out connor's actually pricing because i don't know what his art looks like (one of the few aspects of this fic i have NOT obsessed over), but it isn't the most unlikely thing ever. let's all just...pretend. so we can get to the only reason literally any of you clicked on this fic: fake dating. 
> 
> shoutout to my friend anna for having that exact conversation with me about their outline. they sent me pictures of their outline, some highlights include "alrightely beth my good beiotch" and "compulsory het shit because david is g a y but for this essay hes bi cause i need him to be" 
> 
> uhhhhhhhhhh jared? is there? i didn't know what to do with this chapter other than the dinner scene and that obviously couldn't be....all of it so i kind of floundered for like 5k. cool
> 
> i'm on [tumblr](http://heavenansen.tumblr.com/) if anyone wants to reblog this or yell at me or just.....talk i guess. i'm always there


	11. $460

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some days and stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry crisis. the crisis is mine, i’m having a crisis. 
> 
> anyway this is long as heck so i’m just gonna say make sure you check out the end note because there is a LOT down there (including credit to someone for an idea so!! please read it!!!). also i really…am incredibly frustrated with this chapter so i hope you enjoy it and i hope it was worth the wait. thank you for being so patient with me, merry christmas, happy holidays, so sorry i missed hanukkah, and i hope you have a good day
> 
>  **warnings:** anxiety, depression, anxiety/panic attack, some disordered eating. let me know if i should add any
> 
> enjoy~

Evan is sitting at the kitchen table, stifling a yawn, when there’s a loud honk.

Heidi looks up from her coffee in surprise.

“T-that’s— um, I have a ride today,” Evan mumbles, grabbing his bag.

“Oh.” She leans forward to check the time on the oven. “Yeah, I was going to say, aren’t you running a little late?”

Evan shrugs and pulls on his backpack. “W-will you, um, be home tonight or…”

Heidi sighs and puts down her mug. “I don’t know. I’ll try though, okay?”

“Okay.” He pushes his chair in. “I’ll um… Have a good day at work.”

She smiles at him. She looks more tired than usual, even if she does have the night off, she’ll probably just catch up on sleep. “Have fun at school.”

Evan tries to return the smile and leaves, trying not to walk to fast or seem too on edge or look weird or—

Evan pulls the front door open and blinks in surprise when he sees Connor standing on the doorstep with his hand raised, about to knock.

“H-hey,” Evan stutters, stepping back. “Um…I heard the honk?”

“I needed to get out of the car,” Connor says flatly. He slips Evan a bill, which Evan promptly shoves into his pocket. He steps aside so Evan can step outside and close the door.

“Get out of the car? Why?” he asks as he locks the door behind him. He tries the doorknob once after taking out the key just to be safe and the puts the key in the side pocket of his backpack.

Connor grimaces. “Zoe’s music choices.”

Evan rolls his eyes. “Her music isn’t that bad.” He actually likes most of Zoe’s music. He probably wouldn’t listen to a lot of it on his own, but it’s pretty good.

Connor gives Evan a dead eyed look as they walk down the steps to the driveway. He gives Evan the same look as he pulls open the car door and slides in. Evan puts his backpack on the floor and climbs inside after him.

Zoe twists around in the front seat, grinning. “Hey, Evan!”

“Th-thanks for the ride,” he mumbles, buckling in.

She waves a hand. “It’s nothing. Ready?”

Evan nods and Zoe turns the music back on, immediately jumping in with the lyrics. “ _Moon lighting up her skin, she’s falling, doesn’t even know_ —”

Connor bangs his head against the window. “Evan, stab me.”

Zoe flips Connor off as she backs out of Evan’s driveway and pulls out onto the street.

“Is this One Direction?” Evan asks. He thinks he’s heard this song on the radio before.

“Yes,” Connor groans. “Now I’m know she’s just doing it to piss me off.”

Zoe meets Evan’s eyes in the mirror. Her eyes sparkle. “Definitely not. _We’re only getting older baby, and I’ve been thinking about it lately, does it ever drive you crazy just how fast the night changes?_ ”

“Y-you have a nice voice,” Evan says when there’s a pause in the lyrics.

Zoe laughs. “Thanks, I sound like a frog. Connor’s better.”

Connor buries his face in his hands as Evan looks over at him with wide eyes.

“You don’t sound like a frog,” Evan says quickly to her. “I-if you do, you’re a…a beautiful frog.”

Zoe snorts. “That’s very sweet. When we were little Connor and I would sing along to rock songs with our dad while we cleaned the house. He would put music on and pretend it was fun, and we believed him because we were gullible as hell. But Connor really does have a nice voice.”

Connor lifts his head from his hands. “Pull over. Pull over or I’m jumping out.”

Zoe pulls up to a stop sign and stops the car. She puts it in park and gestures to the door. “Feel free to walk.”

Connor puffs up his cheeks as he stares at the snow covered sidewalks. “I’ll stay,” he says after a long pause. “But you owe me, asshole.”

Zoe purses her lips. “If anyone owes anyone in this car, you owe me and we both owe Evan.”

Evan blinks. “W-what did I do?”

She shrugs. “Not sure yet, but I’ll figure it out.”

The song changes and Zoe hums along with the melody line as she turns up the volume a little bit. Connor glances at Evan with a strange expression his face and Evan gives him an awkward grin.

Zoe thinks Connor owes Evan. She has no idea.

—«·»—

Connor and Evan sit on the floor by Evan’s locker while they wait for the bell to ring. Connor has one earbud in and his eyes closed as he drums out a rhythm on his knee. Evan wonders if he picked that up from Zoe or from somewhere else. Or if Zoe picked it up from him.

Jared drops down on the floor next to them. “Hey dudes. Why are we on the floor?”

Evan shrugs. “Didn’t feel like standing?”

“Valid.” Jared squints at Connor. “What’s up with him?”

“I can hear you,” Connor deadpans. “I’m _trying_ to relax.”

Jared raises his eyebrows. “Okay, sure. Do what you gotta do. Reach your inner peace.”  
Connor opens one eye. “You sound like my mother.”

Jared makes a face. “I have a lot of regrets in life.”

Evan leans back against his locker. “Why are you early?”

“Mom was worried about the ice.” Jared yawns. “She made me leave wicked early and Jo wasn’t awake to back me up with the fact that I’ve driven through two winters now.”

“Jo?” Connor asks, keeping his eyes closed.

“Other mom.”

Connor nods and leans against Evan’s arm a little.

Jared huffs. “We get it! Black ice is a shit. I know what the fuck I’m doing.”

“She’s just being your mom,” Evan points out. It’s kind of nice that she worries about Jared like that. That she’s around to do that. Evan shoves away the bitterness in the back of his throat. Not the time envy. He focuses on Connor’s arm pressed against his. It’s not necessarily _better_ to think about Connor, but it’s a little bit nicer.

“Well I wish she would let up because I hate this place.” Jared pushes his glasses up his nose. “It could catch fire and burn to a crisp and I would literally give negative shits.”

“I can’t believe I agree with you on something,” Connor mutters.

Jared glances to Evan. Evan frowns at him and Jared just shakes his head. “Yeah,” he says, “wild.”

* * *

 

Evan has gotten used to starting his morning with Connor, but there’s something different about being picked up by the Murphys every day instead of just meeting Connor by his locker. Zoe cycles through artists and genres and Connor complains, no matter what she puts on. Evan has no idea what type of music Connor actually likes, or if he’s just being difficult. He might be, Evan doesn’t know anything about having siblings.

Sometimes Zoe looks at Evan like she knows something that Evan doesn’t. It’s kind of uncomfortable, actually. She never says anything, but she’ll smile and raise her eyebrows and Evan gets a weird feeling in his stomach.

He doesn’t bother asking about it. He would never ask Zoe herself about it — Evan isn’t really sure where they stand friendship wise, if they even are friends — and he doesn’t want Connor to think he’s being paranoid or something. Because Zoe couldn’t know about the arrangement. There’s no way for her to know, she’s never around when Connor pays him and they’ve both been careful. Connor is good at acting. Evan isn’t acting anymore.

Besides, something about Connor has seemed…off. At least a little.

Evan likes to think he knows Connor pretty well at this point — or at least, better than the general student body — and something is different. He’s been drawing a lot more. He won’t usually let Evan look at what he’s doing, though Evan has seen a few sketches, but he always has his sketchbook out. An actual sketchbook, not just a notebook that he’s supposed to be using for notes in class. Apparently, he doesn’t just draw around Evan, because Alana brings it up one day when she’s talking to Evan after class and Connor joins them by Evan’s locker.

“Did you finish your drawing?” she asks.

Connor blinks. “My what?”

“Your drawing,” she repeats. “The one you were doing in lit? It was really well done, you’re very good at anatomy.”  

Connor rubs the back of his neck. “That was, uh, just the sketch,” he mumbles. “So…no?”

Alana shrugs. “I’m sure it will look great,” she says before turning back to Evan and continuing their conversation.

Evan watches Connor out of the corner of his eye. Connor stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks away, not contributing to any more of the conversation. He didn’t usually add _useful_ things, but he did usually interject with random commentary, usually sarcastically. It’s _weird_ having a conversation near Connor without Connor butting in every so often.

Evan just hopes that if anything is seriously wrong, Connor will talk to him about it. Because Evan doesn’t know what he’ll do if Connor starts to slip away again.

* * *

 

They hang out but they don’t hang out at Connor’s house like they usually would. Instead, they spend an afternoon in the back of the old public library that’s always been across from the high school but is rarely visited by students. It’s small and doesn’t have all that many books and is mostly populated by parents with nothing better to do with their kids and elderly people. Evan hasn’t spent much time in it before, but he think to himself that it’s good that they’ve finally gotten rid of all the VHS tapes. Until he sees them on a shelf in a media section that has been added since the last time Evan was here.

Connor just shrugs when Evan asks about the change of scenery and says that his mom has been stressed lately and he doesn’t really want to be home. When she is stressing out, she stresses out on whoever is around, and Connor doesn’t want to be near that stress or hear about whatever is stressing her out. Or be forced to participate in stress cleaning. Evan understands.

They make themselves comfortable at a cluster of armchairs and spread their things out on the floor and the small table in the middle of the chairs. Evan takes out his homework and Connor wanders the shelves for a while before returning with a few books. He moves his chair closer to Evan’s and puts his legs up on Evan’s lap as Evan works on an assignment for environmental science. Occasionally Connor reads random lines from the book to Evan, usually followed by “what the fuck”. Evan does half the assignment and then gets more comfortable in the chair, playing with the laces in Connor’s boots as Connor softly reads from the middle of the book he’s started. Evan doesn’t really have any idea what’s happening in the plot and doesn’t know who any of the characters are, but he likes Connor’s facial expressions as he reads and his random commentary, both for humor reasons and because it means Connor switches between his reading voice and his normal voice. Evan didn’t know Connor had a reading voice, but he likes it.

They stay there for a few hours until Zoe is done with rehearsal— the jazz band has a holiday concert slash town tour where they go around to all the elementary schools and play mostly Christmas songs for the students, so their rehearsals have been running later and Zoe’s been leaving more and more frustrated. Connor puts the book back instead of checking it out, but Evan notices him taking a picture of the cover when he thinks Evan isn’t looking. Evan isn’t entirely sure why Connor doesn’t take it home or why he feels the need to hide his interest, but Evan isn’t going to question him now.

Zoe is skipping through songs when they get into the car. She puffs up her cheeks as she listens to a few measures of each song before going to the next one. Connor and Evan exchange a look after they’ve been sitting in the car for a few minutes and she hasn’t even acknowledged their existence.

Zoe changes the song again and Connor reaches forward and pulls her phone out of her hands.

“Hey!” she protests. She twist around and tries to grab it from him.

Connor ignores her and types on her phone. He scrolls through a song list before selecting a song and then handing the phone back to Zoe.

Gentle music floats through the speakers as Zoe sits back in her seat. She stares at the screen for a long moment. “Oh. Thanks.”

Connor shrugs and looks out the window. “Whatever.”

—«·»—

“What was that?” Evan asks as Connor walks him up to his doorstep. He tried to insist that Connor didn’t have to, but Connor was already out of the car. “The song you put on for Zoe?”

Connor brushes his hair out of his eyes. “Just a song from when we were kids. I don’t know, I just thought of it randomly the other day. Been listening to it a lot, figured it was worth a shot.” Connor looks away.

Evan nods. He kind of wants to ask more. He’s always wondered about what Zoe and Connor were like before things got bad, but he’s never had the courage to ask. And now definitely isn’t the time.

“I’ll text you later?” Evan asks as he unlocks the door.

“Yeah, sure.” Connor starts to turn away before he stops. “Hey, Ev?”

“Hm?” Evan glances over his shoulder as he pushes the door open.

“Thanks for hanging out with me today.”

Evan blinks. Connor had put three dollars in his textbook before they left. Even if he hadn’t, he would’ve been there. Hanging out with Connor was infinitely better than sitting alone in his bedroom. He smiles. “Yeah, of course. I had fun.”

The start of a smile plays at the corner of Connor’s lips. “I did too,” Connor says softly.

* * *

 

Connor spends most of Saturday on the floor of Evan’s bedroom.

Evan isn’t having a great day and Connor needed to get out of the house. This is their compromise. Connor brings his sketchbook and paints and steals old plastic cups from Evan’s kitchen to use for paint water. Evan sits on his desk chair wrapped in a blanket and clicks mindlessly on his laptop. Sometimes he’ll watch a video, but he doesn’t bother putting in headphones. Connor promises he doesn’t care and Evan can’t bring himself to move or muster the energy to worry about bothering Connor.

When Connor finishes the painting he’s been working on, he stands up and stretches out his arms. He moves Evan’s plants over on the windowsill — “I like them,” Evan had explained as Connor poked the spider plant. “And I mean…o-okay this is really depressing but, there have been a few days where I got out of bed because I knew I needed to water them so…there’s that too.” “I don’t think that’s depressing,” Connor had said before moving the spider plant so it was in the sun — so he can place the painting in the sunlight. He says that maybe it’ll dry faster there, and even if it doesn’t, at least neither of them will step on it. Then he pulls Evan to his feet and drags him downstairs.

They sit on the floor of the living room and eat pizza as they watch the Great British Baking Show on Netflix. Evan’s seen all the episodes, but Connor is still behind. Connor rolls his pizza up from the tip to the crust and then eats it like a burrito. Evan eats his like a normal person. Connor finds a half empty carton of mint chocolate chip ice cream in the freezer and they split it as the contestants try and fail to make bread. Connor lets Evan have the last spoonful.

Evan goes back to his room as Connor cleans up, Connor insists he can put pizza in the fridge and throw out paper plates without breaking anything, and curls up on his bed with two more blankets. He looks up at Connor when he comes up a few minutes later and Connor sits on the end of the bed, scrolling through his phone.

Wordlessly, Evan pulls an arm out of his blankets and holds out a hand to Connor. Connor looks at it and takes it with a raised eyebrow. Evan just pulls him closer.

“You okay?” Connor asks.

Evan shakes his head.

“Okay,” Connor says softly.

Evan just leans against him and tries to breathe. He feels unsettled and incredibly off, but Connor is here and Connor is comforting. Connor makes it a little bit better. Evan closes his eyes and tries to shut up his brain, because his brain is constantly his worst enemy and he is _so tired_.

Evan feels himself starting to doze off and he wants to apologize to Connor and tell him that he can leave, but Evan’s entire body feels heavy. Thinking about talking or sitting up makes his head spin.

“Is it okay if I touch you?” Connor asks. Or Evan thinks that Connor asks. Everything is sort of a fuzzy mess of real and not real right now. Evan isn’t entirely sure what’s actually happening and what’s happening in his head. He’s too close to sleep for that. His mind is too much of a mess.

He nods because he’s pretty sure Connor is talking to him. Actual Connor. He’s fairly certain there’s a real conversation happening.

Evan feels a weight across his shoulders as he falls asleep, curling closer to the warm body next to him.

—«·»—

It’s dark out when Evan wakes up. That doesn’t necessarily mean anything, it’s December and the world has decided it’s okay to get dark at four in the afternoon, which seriously fucks with Evan’s already shaky sleep schedule.

He’s not sure if Connor did it in his sleep or before he passed out, but somehow, Connor has ended up twisted into Evan’s mess of blankets. His arms are loose around Evan’s waist and Evan’s face is pressed against Connor’s chest.

Evan thinks that he could probably go back to sleep and be perfectly fine. He could sleep through the night. He’s tired enough for it, his body has worn itself with the extended anxiety and it’s not like he gets enough sleep during the week anyway. But that’s probably not fair to Connor, who has a family he needs to go home to, whether he really wants to or not. He at least needs to let them know he’s alive.

Evan sits up and gently pulls himself out of Connor’s arms. Connor’s phone is on the edge of the bed. Evan checks it — two texts from Zoe — before putting it on the desk so it won’t fall on the floor. Then he pads down to the kitchen and makes himself a cup of tea because it’s nice having a warm drink in his hands.

Evan is half done with his tea when Connor stumbles down the stairs and practically falls into the seat across from Evan. Evan watches as Connor pulls the hair elastic from his wrist and twists his hair up until a messy bun.

“What time is it?” Connor asks, voice hoarse.

“It’s like five,” Evan says. “Not too late. You got a text from Zoe.”

Connor nods. “What’s that?” He gestures to Evan’s mug.

“Tea.”

“Cool.” Connor stands and starts rummaging through drawers until Evan points him in the right direction. Connor makes his own cup of tea, take a large sip when it’s still hot, and then gives Evan a flat look. “I just burned my entire face,” he says.

Evan smiles over the top of his mug.

Connor leaves after they’ve finished their tea and Evan has assured him that he’ll be okay. Heidi will be home for dinner tonight, so he’ll definitely eat, and he got out of his room multiple times today, so it could be worse. Evan texts Zoe an apology and says that they fell asleep, because apparently she needed the car for something and didn’t know when Connor was getting back. She replies quickly and says that it’s fine, she got a ride from a friend, and she hopes that Evan slept well.

While Connor pulls on his jacket and boots, Evan digs through a box in the hall closet. He hands Connor a pair of black gloves as Connor is undoing his hair, he doesn’t like to have it up while he drives.

“What are these?” he asks, taking them from Evan.

“Your hands are going to freeze,” Evan says. “Y-your fingerless gloves don’t do shit.”

Connor stares at the gloves. “I can’t take these,” he says, trying to hand them back to Evan.

Evan takes a step back and shoves his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. “I’m regifting,” he says, “so it’s not even like I bought them or anything like that. My dad, um, sent me them last year for my birthday? And they’re…too big for me. But they’ll probably fit you. And they match your aesthetic so…they’re just going around gathering dust.”

Connor holds the gloves up and then sighs. “Only for you, Hansen,” he says as he pulls them on. He wiggles his fingers. “Only because you want me to.”

“Thanks,” Evan murmurs as Connor pulls open the front door. “See you Monday?”

“See you Monday,” Connor promises.

Evan brings his blanket pile downstairs and sits on the couch and watches whatever random shows are on TV until Heidi gets home. She presses a kiss to his forehead and asks how his day was. Evan says that it was okay and gets up from the couch to have Chinese take out with her for dinner.

They talk a little and Evan sort of swerves around college to talk about Connor and Jared instead. Heidi is still trying to invite them and Alana over to dinner and Evan is still avoiding it, just less than he was before. It’ll probably never happen, but it makes his mom happy to think about it, so he lets her.

Evan doesn’t go to sleep early, but he does go to bed early. He lays in bed with the lights off and watches videos on YouTube. He squints at the screen when he gets a text from Connor.

 **From: Connor** **  
****To: Ev** **  
**sleep well whenever you pass out  
     heres to tomorrow being less shit

Evan smiles to himself and types out a response. He blinks at the message a few time before deleting last few keystrokes.

He definitely needs to go to bed.

 **From: Ev** **  
****To: Connor** **  
**      Thanks you too

He goes back to watching YouTube videos and tries to ignore the fact that he genuinely wanted to send Connor a heart.

* * *

 

“How are you so awake?” Evan asks Zoe between songs Monday morning. He feels like death, even though he spent most of the weekend sleeping. He thinks it has less to do with amount of sleep and the fact that he has to wake up before six in the morning that’s slowly killing him.

“Enough coffee it could kill a horse,” Connor grumbles.

Zoe shoots him a glare in the mirror. “I don’t drink _that_ much coffee,” she insists. “But yeah, if I don’t have caffeine in the morning there’s no way I’m surviving the school day. Or even half of it. I’m your typical white girl with a Starbucks obsession.” She drops her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “But between you and me? Connor’s the one who likes pumpkin spice lattes.”

Connor sits up straighter. “I do not!”

“He does,” Zoe sing songs with a smirk.

Evan raises his eyebrows at Connor.

Connor crosses his arms and slouches back in his seat. “I try it one time and don’t hate it and she never fucking lets me live it down,” he mutters.

“I get payback in little ways,” Zoe says seriously.

Connor sets his jaw and looks out the window. Zoe turns the music up louder and Evan tries to get comfortable in the tense quiet he figures will continue until they get to school.

—«·»—

“Is everything…okay?” Evan asks as he pulls off his coat and stuffs it in his locker.

Connor looks up from his nails. “What do you mean?”

“Between you and Zoe?” Evan puts his bag down on the floor. “Things got, um…weird?”

“Things are always weird,” Connor mutters. “We aren’t friends, Ev. We don’t talk about shit. I broke things pretty badly and we’re kind of just pretending it’s not in fucking pieces.” He reaches up and pulls his astronomy book from the top of Evan’s locker. Evan doesn’t know when Connor started putting books in this locker, not that he minds. He doesn’t know when Connor started bringing books to class either.

“What did you have for breakfast?” Connor asks, stopping Evan from asking any more questions.

Evan worries his bottom lip between his teeth before he says, “Nothing.”

Connor looks up from where he’s flipping through his textbook. “Nothing?”

“What did you eat?” Evan asks, stuffing a binder in his backpack.

“Bowl of cereal.” Connor folds the corner of a page. “Ev, you have to eat.”

“I-I’ll eat lunch,” Evan promises. “I just— I don’t…sometimes? Mornings are just…bad. Like, I don’t know, the thought of eating makes me feel gross and eating makes me feel bad so I…don’t. Or can’t. It’s, um, an anxiety thing? I think?”

Connor makes a noise in the back of his throat. “Yeah, but food is still important.”

“Are you saying you eat e-every morning?” Evan asks, turning to look at Connor.

“Yeah.” Connor shrugs. “If I get up in the morning, my mom puts food in front of me. If I don’t eat it, she gives me something for the road. If things are shit and I’m left alone I won’t eat but…my mom doesn’t really leave me alone all that often.” He pulls at one of his rings. “I can handle missing lunch, cause it’s just fucking…shitty food. But breakfast? If I miss it there goes the day, usually.”

Evan looks down at his shoes. “I-I just— sometimes I can’t,” he says softly. “I don’t know.”

“Okay,” Connor says. “I get it.”

* * *

 

 **From: Zoe!! ☆** **  
****To: EH** **  
**Leaving soon!!  
     Today I’m putting on a pop rock station, don’t tell Connor he’s probably going to hate it

 **From: Connor** **  
****To: Ev** **  
**      did you eat?

 **From: Ev** **  
****To: Connor** **  
**No  
     Sorry I treid I just. Yeah Idont know

 **From: EH** **  
****To: Zoe!! ☆** **  
**      Ok!! See you thne

—«·»—

“Here,” Connor says, holding out a bagel wrapped in plastic wrap.

Evan looks from the bagel to Connor. “For me?” he asks, tapping his chest.

“Yeah.” Connor pushes it into his hands. “You don’t have to eat it now. Just like pick at it between class or something, I don’t know, but you should eat before lunch.”  
Evan looks at it before holding it back out to Connor. “Y-you don’t have to give me food—”

Connor nudges past Evan and unlocks the locker. “No, but I wanted to. Besides, Mom buys too much food for the four of us. Bagels are basically the only half decent food we’ve got right now, and we’ve got a shit ton of them.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll have _Zoe_ give you food then,” Connor says. He swings the locker open and shoves his jacket inside. “You don’t want Zoe on your case about eating again, do you?”

“No,” Evan admits. He unwraps the bagel and rips off a piece. “I guess I can eat some of this…”

“Good.” Connor takes out his books and then steps aside so Evan can put his things away.

“I can’t believe you just threatened me into eating,” Evan mutters.

Connor shrugs. “Whatever.”

* * *

 

Connor asks if Evan has eaten the next day too. Evan admits he hasn’t — the more stressed he gets the less he eats and it’s really a bad thing — and Connor pulls another bagel out of his bag and hands it to Evan. Evan offers him a forth of it, which Connor takes after eying him carefully.

Evan wonders if this is going to become a thing. He doesn’t know how to feel about it. But he thinks he likes it.

* * *

Evan deletes a paragraph of his letter and rewrites it. He’s not _really_ supposed to do that, Dr. Sherman wants to see Evan’s uncensored positive thoughts — ha ha very funny — but Evan hates how it’s worded and also thinks that it might cause more questions than he wants. It was a bit of an anxious morning. Nothing too bad, mostly test stress if he’s being honest, but Dr. Sherman would probably love to take a day to go into Evan’s performance anxiety and that’s just too much for right now.

The door of the computer lab opens and Evan looks up to see Connor. He smiles and Connor lifts a hand in greeting. Evan looks back to his laptop and puffs his cheeks. This letter is kind of garbage, but it’s sort of positive? It’s not the worst. He can probably settle for this.

“Hey,” Connor murmurs. He bumps his arm against Evan’s.

Evan grins but keeps his eyes on his laptop. He skims the letter quickly looking for any grammatical errors.

“This is for you.”

Evan frowns as Connor holds out an envelope to him. “What’s this?”

Connor pushes the envelope into Evan’s hands.

Evan chews on his bottom lip as he opens the envelope and then immediately drops it. Connor bends down and scoops it back up, pressing it into Evan’s shaking hands.

Evan’s brain feels like static. The envelope is heavy in his hands. He pushes it back toward Connor. “N-no that’s— that’s too much, I-I can’t—”

“Please,” Connor whispers.

Evan shakes his head. “I can’t— what are you—?” Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe—

Connor takes Evan’s hands and pulls him over to one of the rows of computers. He sits Evan down in a chair. “Hey, Ev, do you need a sec?”

Evan closes his eyes and nods. The envelope is still between him and Connor’s hands and Evan would be pulling away so he didn’t have to touch it right now if Connor’s grip wasn’t so grounding.

“I’m sorry for dropping it on you like that,” Connor apologizes when Evan’s breathing evens out a little bit. “That was shitty, I should’ve warned you.”

“W-why?” It’s all Evan can manage, and he can’t even look at Connor when he says it. He just stares at Connor’s right hand and the chipping black nail polish and the scratched up silver rings on his pointer and ring fingers.

“Do you…remember when Jared was making up prices for this shit?”

“Yes,” Evan says slowly.

Connor slowly untangles his fingers from Evan’s. He holds up the envelope. “Two hundred.”

Evan stops breathing.

“My family…” Connor grimaces. “They think we’re dating. Kind of a fuck up there but, uh… If you’re…okay with this?” He holds out the envelope again.

“I can’t,” Evan whispers.

“Okay yeah, that’s totally understandable,” Connor says quickly. He pulls away and moves to stuff the envelope in his bag.

“N-no!” Evan grabs Connor’s arm. “I can’t— the money. I don’t want the money.”

Connor searches Evan’s face, eyebrows furrowed. Evan doesn’t think he’s breathing and he doesn’t know how Connor _doesn’t get it_.

“I can’t take it,” Evan repeats.

“You have to,” Connor counters.

“I really don’t.”

“I just,” Connor runs a hand through his hair. “I would feel really fucking shitty if I didn’t, okay? My family is hell to put up with, Zoe is always around during school so we’d have to keep the act up pretty constantly— I’m getting a happy mom out of this, if I don’t pay you what are you getting? I’d just be using you.”

Evan’s mouth is dry. He’d be getting a lot. A painful lot, but a lot. “You aren’t using me,” he says softly.

Connor offers Evan the envelope again. “Please?”

Evan meets Connor’s eyes. He feels his resolve melting. “Okay.” He takes the envelope and it feels like lead. “Okay.”

Connor sags against the back of the seat and buries his face in his hands. “Thank you,” he mumbles. “I— fuck. Thank you, Ev. You’re saving my life.”

“Fake boyfriends?” Evan hates that he has therapy today, because that’s just more time he has to carry around this money. He wants to bury it in the back of his closet and banish thoughts of it to the back of his mind, where it can’t make him feel anxious and sick.

Connor looks up at him with a forced smile. “Fake boyfriends.”

—«·»—

Evan thinks about telling Jared. Then he panics and deletes the message before hitting send. He takes the money out of the envelope and stuffs it in the shoebox. He rips the envelope up in to pieces and puts in the trash. Then he takes out the trash and sits on the floor of his room.

He has no idea what he’s doing anymore.

* * *

**From: Connor** **  
****To: Ev** **  
**      saturday? your house??

 **From: Ev** **  
****To: Connor** **  
**Yeah t hat works for me  
     My mom should  be gone for msot of the day shes working

 **From: Connor** **  
****To: Ev** **  
**lit  
     feel free to see a weed joke in there if you want to

 **From: Ev** **  
****To: Connor** **  
**      Real sophisticated humor ther e con

 **From: Connor** **  
****To: Ev** **  
**      thank you

* * *

 

Evan is sitting on his doorstep when Connor drives up. He looks up from his knees as Connor and Zoe both climb out of the car. Connor walks up to Evan while Zoe walks over to the driver’s side.

“Hey, Evan!” she shouts, waving.

Evan waves back, trying for a small smile.

“She needed the car,” Connor explains, “but I wanted to drive.” He offers Evan his hand and pulls Evan to his feet. “How are you?”

“Anxious,” Evan says honestly. He watches Zoe back out of the driveway before he continues. “How do we…do this?”

“Maybe inside?” Connor suggests. “I don’t know if standing outside in December when neither of us are wearing coats is exactly the best plan.”  
“You never wear a coat,” Evan points out. He pulls open the door and Connor follows him inside the house.

“I _never_ said I was cold,” Connor counters. “I was just saying maybe we shouldn’t stand outside. Because…illness.”

“Good argument.” Evan hesitates before leading Connor up his room. Evan closes the door behind Connor and leans against it. “So, um…where do we start?”

Connor sits on the edge of Evan’s bed. “When we started dating?”

“Sure.” Evan glances to his desk chair and debates sitting down. “Uh, when did you tell your parents that we were…” He gestures between him and Connor.

“December third,” Connor says immediately. Evan blinks in surprise. “I remember,” Connor says. “Trust me.”

“I-I do.” Evan steps away from the door, tugging on the cuffs of his sweatshirt. “So…that was, uh, two weeks ago?”

“Yeah.” Connor stands up and grabs pulls the chair away from the desk and pushes it over to Evan. “So maybe like…a week before that?”

“We’ve been dating for three weeks,” Evan says as he sits down. The words feel funny, but not in a bad way. Evan tries to ignore that feeling.

“We have been dating for three weeks,” Connor repeats. “If…we’ve been dating for three weeks we should probably be pretty comfortable with each other, right?”

“Um…I’ve never dated anyone before,” Evan admits, “but that would…make sense?”

Connor shrugs. “I haven’t either. Uncharted waters and all that shit.”

“We’re going to be terrible at this,” Evan mutters.

Connor laughs. “Yeah, probably.” He smiles at Evan and Evan smiles back because there’s really nothing else he can do at this point. “What do couples do?” Connor asks.

Evan’s first thought is make out between classes but that’s definitely not a thought worth sharing right now. “Hold hands?” he asks instead, because that’s solid and safe. Also, he’s only ever held Connor’s hand when he was freaking out, but he still likes it. It’s nice in ways that he can’t really describe yet.

Connor looks down at his hands before he holds his left hand out. Evan takes it and Connor pulls him and the desk chair closer.

“S-sorry if my hands are sweaty,” Evan apologizes. He can feel his ears burning and he hopes that Connor doesn’t notice. “They get sweaty when I’m anxious and I’m—”

“Always anxious?” Connor asks. Evan nods. “You’re fine.” He rubs his thumb over Evan’s. Evan swallows and pulls on the strings of his sweatshirt. “Here.” Connor scoots back and pulls his legs up on Evan’s bed before tugging Evan onto it too.

“How’d your parents take it?” Evan asks suddenly.

Connor tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

Evan gestures back and forth. It’s sort of weird having only one hand to move around, even when he had his cast he was still able to kind of wave it around, but he’s not going to let go of Connor’s hand just to wave his hand around. Besides, Connor’s hand is soothing and grounding and warm in Evan’s. “You? Having a— me? The boyfriend thing, you know. That.”

“Surprised,” Connor says with a shrug. “Surprised, but overall…happy. At least my mom was.”

“Your…dad?” Evan asks slowly.

“Shocked that anyone likes me enough to date me,” Connor jokes.

“ _Connor_ —”

“It’s not like I was coming out or anything,” Connor says. He spins one of his rings with his right thumb. “Did that years ago. It was the relationship thing that freaked him out, I think. Not the you thing or the guy thing. I tend to fuck shit up pretty badly so…”

Evan looks down at his bedsheets. “I-I mean it’s…probably a good thing that you didn’t do the coming out thing at the same time, right?”

“Probably,” Connor agrees. “I came out freshman year, so it’s not exactly news.”

“How’d that go down?” Evan asks, thankful that the conversation is steering away from Connor being self deprecating.

Connor runs a hand through his hair. “I think my mom was trying to convince me to go to a school dance. Which, I was definitely not going to because it was a fucking _school dance_ , you know?” Evan nods. “So she says something like ‘isn’t there a girl you want to bring?’ and I responded with ‘I’m gay’.”

Evan laughs. He covers his mouth with his hand. “Sorry,” he says.

Connor grins. “Literally, without missing a fucking _beat_ , she just goes ‘any _boys_ you want to bring?’ I think we stared at each other for like a solid fifteen seconds before I got up and walked out of the kitchen.”

“Did you go to the dance?”

“Fuck no. Who wants to put up with that shit?”

Evan has to agree. He doesn’t like lots of people or lots of noise, and school dances are a lot of both of those. He’d rather just ignore that.

“So yeah.” Connor shrugs a shoulder. “My parents were pretty chill when I came out. We never really talked about it, Larry and I, but my mom must’ve said something, because he never again asked me if I had a girlfriend. I mean there were other reasons for that too, but, whatever. Plus, I kind of feel like he always knew.”

Evan frowns. “What do you mean?”

Connor shifts. “I have the distinct memory of telling people I wanted to marry Prince Eric from the Little Mermaid when I grew up.”

Evan snorts.

Connor raises an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, what about this is funny?”

Evan shakes his head and tries to hold back his smile. “Nothing! It’s just— Prince Eric?”

Connor narrows his eyes. “Don’t insult my husband like this.”

Evan laughs and covers his face with his free hand. He leans forward as his shoulders shake and bumps against Connor’s leg. When he meets Connor’s eyes, Connor is watching him with a crooked smile and weirdly soft eyes. Evan just buries his face in the crook of his arm to try and stop giggling and also to hide how red he can feel his face getting.

Why is Connor looking at him like that?

“I wanted to marry Prince Eric,” Connor says, making Evan stifle another laugh, “and Zoe wanted to _be_ Ariel.”

Evan peaks over to Connor with a grin. “Did she?”

Connor nods and squeezes Evan’s hand. Evan wonders if he realizes he did that or not. “I remember she came home from a friend’s once when she was like…twelve or thirteen and she had dyed her hair bright red with that shitty temporary hair dye that’s mostly just like paint? My dad had a fucking heart attack.”

“I’m guessing he was relieved when she washed it out?” Evan asks.

“Yes,” Connor says slowly, “but then she started putting colored streaks in her hair which were more permanent, so I don’t think that was better.”

Evan shrugs. “Was it red?”

“Good point.” Connor purses his lips. “Do you like boats?”

Evan blinks. “I…don’t know? I’ve never been on one.”

“Perfect, Larry can’t freak out about that then.”

Evan bites back a smile before saying, “My name does start with an ‘e’, though.”

“Shit you’re right,” Connor says. “‘Evan’ is a fourth of the way to ‘Eric’. Let’s hope he never realizes that.”

Evan ignores the minor implication made by Connor comparing him to someone he wanted to _marry_ when he was a little kid. Because if he thinks about it too much his heart might actually explode or something equally embarrassing.

“But yeah,” Connor says after a moment. He goes back to rubbing his thumb over Evan’s. “My parents were fine with me being gay. Probably helped that Zoe came out when she was ten. Me being gay was something they understood more immediately than her being trans.”

“Did they handle that okay?” Evan asks. He jerks away with wide eyes, pulling Connor forward a bit. “I-I mean— that’s super personal a-and if you don’t want to talk about that it’s totally understandable oh my god I have no idea why I just asked that I am so sorry I just—”

“Ev, it’s fine,” Connor says. “They didn’t really understand it, but they were supportive. Or— fuck, I don’t know. _I_ didn’t really get it, so that might just be me projecting, but they’ve always been really supportive of Zoe. Me being gay required significantly less research.”

“I’m not surprised you didn’t get it, I mean,” Evan motions around the room, “we do live…here.”

“Ah yes,” Connor leans back on his free hand. “Relatively conservative, mostly Christian, white suburbia. How could I forget.” 

“I hope I forget,” Evan says.

Connor sighs. “Don’t we all. But what about you? Are you out to your mom yet?”

“Um…” Evan pulls at the bottom of his sweatshirt. “No? I… I mean I’ve never really had a reason to, you know, and she’s not home much so. I should and I— I don’t think I have anything to worry about? Jared’s moms are like her best friends, what am I talking about, I have nothing to worry about I just…” Connor squeezes Evan’s hand and Evan takes a deep breath. “I-It’s silly.”

“It’s not _silly_ to be scared to come out,” Connor says. “It’s fucking scary. I just had stopped giving a shit about what my family thought of me at that point. I was literally expecting to get kicked out, anyway, it just wasn’t going to be me being gay that did it. Zoe was the one who did all the hard shit. Don’t beat yourself up for being nervous about something you have every right to be nervous about.”

“I’m nervous about e-everything,” Evan points out.

“Yeah, that’s the anxiety.” Connor squeezes his hand again. “This is just common sense, even if your mom is the best ally in the goddamn world.”

“You’re paying me,” Evan mutters. “You don’t have to act like my therapist.”

“I’m not being your therapist,” Connor counters. “I’m being your friend.”

Evan looks down at their intertwined fingers. “Oh.”

“And if you _do_ come out to your mom and for whatever reason it _does_ go to shit, you can crash at mine for however long you need.”

Evan furrows his eyebrows. “I can’t do that.”

“Yeah you can.” Connor spins his ring. “My parents love you, they’d be fine with it and we both know there’s too much fucking space in that house.”

“They barely know me,” Evan says.

“Yeah, but…” Connor shrugs. “They like you. They’d probably rather have you as a son than me.”

“Stop that,” Evan says, reaching out and poking Connor’s knee.

Connor rolls his eyes. “I’m not kidding, I’m a depressed stoner who almost failed out of high school.”

“And I’m a depressed anxious mess who almost failed out of high school,” Evan counters.

Connor snorts. “You didn’t almost fail out of high school, Ev.”

“Well, no,” Evan admits. “But sophomore year was…pretty bad. I-I mean, there was a lot of catch up work and stress and panic attacks involved in… _that_ . I didn’t almost fail _out_ but there were a few classes I did, like? Almost fail? It was scary. Not…what I needed.”

“I would argue that no one needs any of this,” Connor says.

“I’d agree with you.”  Evan picks at his comforter. “Who needs high school?”

“Us, apparently.” Connor stares at their hands. “If you’re…okay with this,” he lifts their joined hands, “are you…okay with being out at school?”

Evan thinks about it. His gut reaction is to say, yes of course, because he’s never been _exactly_ in the closet but he hasn’t been exactly out of it either. It was really more of no one bothering to notice him. Who would care if the kid who everyone forgot existed was bi? At the same time, being out means being _out_ — it opens up a whole new door for taunting and might diminish some of his invisibility, and not in a way he’d like.

He’s already lying about so much that maybe this one truth is worth the risk.

“Yeah I am,” he says.

Connor furrows his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

Evan nods. “If Jared can be out at school, and Alana can be, and you and Zoe? So can I.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Connor looks like he’s going to say something again, so Evan says the first thing that comes to mind. “Do you not think I should or something?”

“No,” Connor says slowly. “If that’s what you want to do, I’m all for it and if anyone says anything about it I’ll break their face.”

“Then why do you keep asking if I’m sure?”

“I’m no—”

“You asked me twice and you were going to ask me a third.” Evan scoots a little closer to Connor. “I-I mean, if you think that it’s a bad idea I won’t but you were the one talking about us being together at school—”

“When we first started this you said you were bad at saying no,” Connor interrupts. He picks at his nail polish.

Evan stares. _He_ doesn’t even remember saying that, how does Connor? “Trust me,” Evan says softly, “if I didn’t want to do this, I’d be so much more of a mess than I am right now. I’d probably be in the bathroom throwing up.”

Connor glances up at Evan. “But you would tell me if you didn’t want to do something?”

“Of course.”

Connor gives him a flat look.

Evan runs his hand through his hair. “I-I mean of course I would! I wouldn’t— if other people were around? Do you mean?”

Connor nods. “Yeah.”

Evan inhales sharply. “Uh…” That would raise questions and Evan doesn’t know if he can handle questions.

“What about a code word?” Connor asks. “If there was like…a fucking codeword that you could use, that you could just slip into casual conversation to tell me to fuck off if you needed me to. Like if I was just standing too close or something. You’d say it and I’d back off.”

That’s…better. Evan looks at Connor. “Only if  you use it too.”

Connor leans back. “What?”

“I-if we have a codeword,” Evan says, “ _we_ have a codeword. We both use it, not just me. I— it’s not like I can read your mind or anything. It only makes sense…”

“Okay,” Connor says after a pause. “It should be a word that’s not like…awkwardly obvious if we throw it in conversation but we aren’t going to use otherwise.” He coughs. “Any chance you’re into pet names? Like…dear or something? ”

Evan blinks. “Uh…n-no? I mean, I have no idea? I’ve never…had the opportunity to use them? But they don’t seem very…me?” He taps his chest and Connor nods.

“What about ‘babe’ then?” Connor asks. “As the code word? I’m sure as fuck not going to use it otherwise.”  
“Works for me,” Evan agrees.

“And you’ll actually use it?”

“I’ll use it if you use it.”  
Connor huffs. “We’re both going to use it, that’s fucking settled. What else do couples do?”

“Dates?” Evan suggests, even though the first thing that comes to mind is the $15 listing for a kiss that has been haunting his mind since this conversation started.

Connor groans. “I was kind of just hoping we could just…sit on a couch for those.”  

“That sounds good,” Evan agrees.

“What else was on Jared’s list?”

Evan clears his throat. “Um…kissing.” He ducks his head as his face turns pink. “Are you…uh, okay with that?” The silence is so long that he grimaces and looks up to meet Connor’s eyes. Except Connor isn’t looking at him, he’s just looking at the bed in front of him. “Connor?”

“I don’t know,” he says with a shrug. “I haven’t kissed anyone before.”

“You haven’t?” Evan asks in surprise.

Connor scoffs and starts to pull away. “Yeah, I know, kind of sad ri—”

“No!” Evan tightens his grip on Connor’s hand. “No no no, it’s not— I’m not kiss shaming you or anything! I just…”

Connor raises an eyebrow. “Kiss shaming?”

“Shut up,” Evan mumbles.

Connor sighs. “I take this to mean you _have_ kissed someone before?”

Evan makes a face. He should’ve expected this. “Um… My first kiss? It was Megan Byrne in like…third grade. She kissed me on a dare.”

“ _Ouch_ that must’ve sucked.” Evan looks away. “Oh my _god_ you totally had a crush on her.”

Evan makes an ‘I don’t know’ sound.  

Connor laughs.

Evan rubs his face with his hand. “Listen! It’s just— it was a lot simpler back in elementary school! Someone just had to like…not be outright mean and smell nice and not look totally gross and— crushes were _easy_ okay?”

Connor smirks. “That tells me you had a crush that you are _super_ fucking embarrassed about.”

“No!”

Connor leans in close until he’s only a few inches away from Evan, still smiling. “Oh come on, Ev, you can tell me.”

Evan bites his lip and looks away. His heart is hammering in his ears. “Jake,” he mutters.

Connor sits back with a surprised look. “Jake? Which one?”

“Taylor.” Connor’s eyes go wide. “Back in fifth grade? When he first came to our school?” Evan shakes his head. “It felt like every single girl in our class had a crush on him, he was like…the coolest kid ever. And we got partnered together for a project and I remember having this dream about kissing him and—”

“I can’t believe your gay awakening was Jacob fucking Taylor,” Connor says in awe.

“Bi awakening, but yes,” Evan grumbles. “He was the first guy that I like— I mean I _probably_ had crushes on guys before that but Jake was the first one where I really _realized_ what was going on, where I looked and him and I was just like ‘ _oh_ I am _not_ straight’. And it sucks! ‘cause he’s kind of like? The worst person ever now? Like a _total_ asshole and he looks like a thumb!” Connor covers his mouth with the back of his hand as he laughs. Evan huffs. “Stop laughing! He does!”

“I’m not saying you’re _wrong_ ,” Connor says through his laughter. “That’s just— holy _shit_ that’s the best fucking description of that dickhead that I’ve _ever heard_.”

“He was cuter when I didn’t realize he was terrible,” Evan admits. “Really glad I never had the courage to ask him out or anything.”

Connor stops laughing. “Yeah that would’ve been…”

Evan shudders. “I just avoid him like the plague now.”

“And everyone else avoids _me_ like the plague,” Connor says, “so it works out.”

Evan pokes Connor’s knee. “Don’t do that.”

“Okay.” Connor clears his throat. “So. Kissing.”

Evan nods. “Kissing.”

Connor blows hair out of his eyes. “You’re the one with more experience, which is to say you _have_ experience,” Evan rolls his eyes, “so like…how does this work?”

“Uh…” Evan blinks a few times. “You kind of just…kiss?”

“Wow. It’s like I’m living it.”

Evan scowls as Connor grins. “I don’t know! Pucker your lips and close your eyes I guess, I’m not exactly an _expert_ at this.”

Connor closes his eyes and and puckers his lips. Evan just stares at him. Does he just…go for it? Because this changes everything and—

“Evan?”

“You look like a fish,” Evan blurts out.

Connor opens his eyes. “Feel like one too. If you don’t want to do this—”

“Stop talking,” Evan interrupts. He pulls their hands apart and cups Connor’s face in his hands. Before he can overthink this anymore, he leans forward, closes the distance between then, presses their lips together.

Connor goes still under Evan’s touch and it probably only lasts a few seconds, but when Evan pulls away it feels like years have passed. He pulls his hands away from Connor’s face and fiddles with his fingers as he glances to Connor.

Connor is staring at him with an expression on his face that Evan can’t read. It’s sort of blank, sort of surprised.

“C-Connor?” Evan asks, breath shaky. “Are you— was that…?”

Connor blinks. “That was weird,” he says. His voice sounds hollow.  

Evan laughs nervously. “Yeah, uh, kissing? It’s, um— I mean at least _I_ think that it’s…kind of weird? It’s…yeah.”

Connor nods slowly. “Does it get…less weird?”

“What?” Evan asks.

“Kissing. Does it get less weird?”

“Uh… Not sure.” Evan pulls on his thumb. “I don’t like… I haven’t been kissed enough to know?”

“Maybe we should…try again?”

Evan glances up to Connor. “Okay,” he says softly. This is definitely a bad idea. Evan’s life is just a series of bad ideas at this point. He moves a little bit closer to Connor. “We can try again.”

This time, when their lips touch, Connor kisses back. Evan’s breath catches in his throat because being kissed _by_ Connor is much different than just kissing him is. Evan finds himself thinking that Connor’s lips are much softer than he thought they would be as their noses bump together.

“Sorry,” Connor mumbles, breaking the kiss.

“You’re fine,” Evan murmurs. Their noses are still touching, he could just…keep kissing Connor and he kind of wants to. So he does.

Evan finds himself thinking that he is a painfully selfish person as he leans back in. Connor relaxes into the kiss immediately and Connor’s theory was right, kissing gets less weird the more they do it. Or maybe that’s just Evan liking Connor so much that he can ignore all the weirdness of kissing and focus on the feeling of Connor’s lips against his and the swooping in his chest.

Evan leans into the kiss more because it feels right and he’s going with his gut feeling at this point. Everything is spiraling out of control and Connor is the only solid thing he has, which should not be the case. Connor’s thumb brushes against Evan’s jaw and a shiver runs down his spine. Connor’s hand stays on the back of Evan’s neck as they pull apart.  

Connor presses their foreheads together and Evan keeps his eyes closed because he’s going to hold on to this moment for as long as he can.

Connor laughs breathlessly. “I have no clue what the _fuck_ I’m doing.”

Evan smiles. “I don’t really know anyone who does,” he admits.

Connor’s fingers brush against Evan’s check as Connor pulls away. He tucks a strand of hair behind his ear and Evan pulls at the cuffs of his sweatshirt. He tries not to look too much at Connor, which is really hard when all he wants to do is look at Connor.

“Should we have a way to warn the other if we’re going to kiss them?” Connor says after a long moment. Evan turns to look at him and very pointedly does not look at his lips.

“Not a codeword.”

“Yeah that’d probably be weird.”

Evan licks his lips. “What if…” He holds up the back of his hand and taps it with a finger. “Something like tapping the other person’s hand? We could make that pretty subtle, I think.”

“So if I tap the back of your hand, you could either stop me with the codeword or you’d be fine with me kissing you?” Connor asks.

Evan nods. “Yeah, that would work.”

“Like this?” Connor reaches out and taps Evan’s hand.

“Yeah, like…” Evan trails off as Connor scoots closer and presses a firm kiss to his lips. Evan blinks when Connor pulls away with a smile.

“It works,” he announces.

Evan laughs and lightly punches his shoulder. “You didn’t have to test it out.”

“I did,” Connor says seriously. He sits back. “Okay, so that’s all established. What about…payment.”

Evan’s stomach drops. “Connor—”

Connor barrels on. “I know Jared said five dollars for every kiss but I have a feel you aren’t going to let me give you that much money.”

“I’m not taking _any_ money from you,” Evan insists. “That’s— anything we do with our _bodies_? That’s a decision made between both of us. I-I don’t— we don’t need to get money involved. You’re…already asking permission.”

Connor searches Evan’s face. “That makes sense,” he says softly. Evan sighs. “What about five a week.”

“ _Connor_.” Evan drags a hand through his hair. “That’s not—” He looks at Connor out of the corner of his eyes. Connor, who is staring at his hands and spinning the ring on his pinky finger. Connor, who’s never backed down from a payment once, no matter what Evan tries to do.

Evan is a selfish asshole. One day he’s going to pay for it.

“Five dollars for two weeks,” he says, “non negotiable.” He holds out his hand to Connor.

Connor stares at Evan’s hand, like he’s not really sure it’s there. “Non negotiable?”

Evan nods. He feels a little sick. “Non negotiable.”

Connor shakes his hand. “I can work with that.”

—«·»—

They’re kind of at a loss for what else to talk about. Evan _really_ doesn’t know what else he should expect from a fake romantic relationship, and Connor just shrugs when Evan asks if there’s anything else they should think about. They end up on Evan’s laptop, googling relationship advice.

Somehow they end up taking way too many quizzes about relationships. “Is He Your Prince Charming” quizzes and “How To Know When You’ve Met The One” articles now fill Evan’s internet history.

“What about this one?” Connor asks from the floor. He’s sitting on the floor and scrolling on Evan’s laptop on the bed.

Evan is staring at the ceiling and letting Connor read lines from articles about perfecting relationships that make them both cringe. “What’s it called?”

“‘How Strong Is Your Relationship?’” Connor reads.

“Our relationship doesn’t exist,” Evan reminds him, resting his hands on his stomach.

“Yeah but how strong do we want it to seem?”

“Uh…” Evan squints at his ceiling. “How reliable is Buzzfeed?”

“‘How long have you been together?’” Connor asks, ignoring Evan. They both know the answer to Evan’s question anyway. “Guess this will make sure we’re on the same page or something.”

“Or something,” Evan repeats. “Three weeks.”

“Less than three months,” Connor murmurs. “Okay, ‘how often do you see each other?’ They don’t have an almost every day so let’s go with every day.”

Evan blinks. Yes they go to school together, but they didn’t see each other at all at the beginning of the year, which wasn’t even that long ago. Weird. He didn’t actively try to spend more time with Connor until a few weeks but…

“‘When you’re apart, do you chat much on social media?’”

“Um…” Evan turns his head to look at Connor. “Does texting count?”

Connor chews on his lip as he reads the screen. “Doesn’t specify. Chat on and off most of the time?”

Evan shrugs. “Sure.” It’s kind of uncomfortable that they’ve only lied on one question so far.

Connor coughs. “Okay, uh… I’m just going to choose a random number for this one and move on.”

Evan frowns. “Why?”

“No reason,” Connor mutters. His cheeks are turning red, even though he’s trying to hide behind the laptop.

“Con?”

“‘Which of these best describes your friendship groups?’” Connor reads pointedly. He won’t look at Evan.  

Evan shakes his head. “What does that mean?”

“It’s fine, I’ve got this one. We have the same friends because we’re social outcasts.” Connor shakes his hair out of his face. “‘Would you say your partner is also your best friend?’” He looks up at Evan.

Evan is very careful not to get lost in Connor’s eyes or anything embarrassing like that. “Well…yeah.”

“Right.” Connor looks back to the screen.

Evan isn’t sure if Connor realizes that wasn’t a lie.

Connor furrows his eyebrows and clicks a few times without consulting Evan. “We don’t cook for each other,” he says after a moment.

Evan scoffs. “We can’t _cook_.”

“True.” Connor continues to click. Evan tries to remember what Connor said the name of this quiz was, because he kind of wants to know what questions Connor isn’t asking him. “We got a fifty four out of a hundred.”

“Huh.” Evan props himself up on his elbows. “Is that…bad?”

“Want the description?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“‘Your relationship is probably still fairly new,’” Evan snorts, “‘so you’re not seriously thinking marriage and kids yet (if those are things you want),’ — holy shit Buzzfeed that’s moving fast — ‘and you definitely still have big parts of your lives that you keep separate.’” Evan thinks that’s debatable, but okay. “‘While you do know and get on with each other’s friends, you think it’s important to hang out just with your mates too, and you want to make sure your lives don’t become completely intertwined – at least until a bit further down the line if you decide you’re ready to one hundred percent commit to this person.’”

Connor looks up at Evan. “Do you have secret friends I don’t know about?”

Evan laughs. “No, I don’t have any secret ‘mates’ that I hang out with. Just you, Jared, and sometimes Alana. That’s it.”

“Buzzfeed doesn’t know shit.”

“I could’ve told you that before we started,” Evan points out. “Guess a fifty four isn’t bad for a three week old high school relationship, though.”

“Valid.”

Evan sits up fully. “Do you want something to eat?”

Connor closes the laptop. “Sure.”

They go through the cupboards and find mostly a collection of half eaten bags of chips.

“Jared?” Connor asks.

“Jared,” Evan agrees. He pulls down a bag of Smartfood.

Connor digs through the fridge and finds leftover Italian food from the other night when Heidi brought it home after work. “Can I steal this?”

Evan shrugs. “Sure.”

Connor heats up the pasta in an old bowl that has a chip in the rim but they’ve never gotten around to throwing out. He sits next to Evan instead of across from him. He steals a handful of popcorn between bites of pasta.

Evan makes a face. “Gross.”

Connor swallows. “Doesn’t taste that bad.”

“I’ll trust you.” Evan says. “I’m not trying it.”

“Didn’t say I was going to do it again, just said it wasn’t _bad_.”

“Was it good?”

“No.”

Evan rolls his eyes. “You probably could’ve figured that out _before_ you tried that.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Connor asks with a lazy grin.

“Where’s the fun in being grossed out by your own food?”

Connor points his fork at Evan. “That’s fair.”

Connor finishes his pasta without any other weird food combinations and Evan tells him to put the bowl in the sink. He’ll do dishes after Connor leaves, it’s not worth it now. Connor sits back down next to him and throws popcorn in the air and tries to catch it in his mouth. Mostly it just bounces off his face and onto the floor. From there, Connor bends down, picks it up, and tries to throw it in the trash. That’s usually more successful.

They’re almost done with the popcorn when a key turns in the front door.

Connor frowns and looks toward the front of the house. “Uh…?”

Evan blinks. “My…mom?”

“I thought you said she was working all day?”

Evan nods slowly. “That was…the plan? Um, I think?”

“Do…you want me to go hide?” Connor asks.

Evan blinks. “No?”

“I can hide.”

“Connor, it’s fine.”

“I’m home,” Heidi shouts. “Let off early.” She’s tugging her hair out of it’s ponytail when she walks into the kitchen. She barely gives Connor a second look as she puts her bag down on the kitchen table. “Who’s this?” she asks as she pulls open the fridge.

“Connor,” Evan says. “This is Connor.”

“Oh, I’ve heard about Connor.”

Connor raises his eyebrows at Evan and Evan swallows thickly. His hands are starting to sweat.

Heidi pulls out a carton of milk and puts it down on the counter. “Nice to finally meet you,” she says as she closes the fridge door.

“He’s my…” Evan stares at Connor.

Connor frowns. ‘What?’ he mouths.

Evan pulls on his sweatshirt. His throat feels like it’s closing up.

“Your what?” Heidi asks absentmindedly. She takes out a cup and puts it on the counter before turning around to face the table. She leans against the counter.

Connor’s eyes widen in realization.

“Connor is my uh…” Evan’s mouth is dry and his mind has gone completely blank.

Connor clears his throat. “Best fri—”

“ _Boyfriend_ ,” Evan blurts out. He grabs Connor’s hand off the table. “He’s my boyfriend! I’m bi. We have to go now, bye.” He almost falls out of his chair and drags Connor out of the kitchen after him. Evan grabs the railing as he races up the stairs because falling right now would literally be the worst and bursts into his bedroom, only letting go of Connor to slam the door shut.

“Oh my _god_.”

Connor stares at him.

Evan’s legs feel like jello. He feels like he’s going to throw up. Or just die immediately. He covers his mouth with his hand and stumbles forward into Connor’s chest. Connor’s hands come up to catch him and he takes a step back so they don’t fall over.

Evan grips Connor’s sweatshirt in his free hand. “What did I just _do_?” he whispers, voice muffled by his hand. He thinks he’s shaking. He’s probably shaking. He might cry.

“You’re fine,” Connor promises. Evan buries his face in Connor’s sweatshirt. “You’re safe, I swear.”

Evan chokes back a sob. “I-I didn’t—”

“Yeah I know. But you did, and that’s so fucking brave of you, Ev.” Connor runs a hand over Evan’s hair. “Like, ridiculously.”

Evan makes a sound that’s really just pathetic and kind of makes him feel worse and squeezes his eyes shut tighter.

“I’m really proud of you,” Connor says softly.

Evan isn’t sure how long they stand like that, him shaking in Connor’s arms, but eventually he pulls away and wipes his face with the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

“Don’t do that.”

Evan sits down on the side of his bed. Then he slides off it to sit on the floor.

Connor sits down next to him and wraps an arm around Evan’s shoulders and pulls him close. Evan turns his face to press it against Connor’s shoulder. He feels a little lightheaded and he still kind of wants to cry more. He probably will later, when it all comes crashing down on him again.

“I have to talk to her, don’t I?”

Connor looks down at Evan in surprise. Evan looks away and picks at the cuffs of his sweatshirt. “I mean…yeah.”

Evan groans.

“If it helps,” Connor says slowly, “I think you just surprised her. I saw her face. I don’t think she’s upset or anything. You said it yourself earlier, why would she be?”

“I don’t know.” Evan runs a hand through his hair. “I-I don’t— I just…” He fists a handful of hair. “S-she… What if she…”

Connor pulls Evan’s hand out of his hair and holds it in his own. “If she does, you come back home with me.”

Evan stares at him. “A-are—”

“I wasn’t joking before.” Connor squeezes Evan’s hand. “If this goes to shit, you can stay at mine. But I don’t think it will.”

Evan laughs weakly. “I-if you’re sure…”

“I’m sure. I won’t leave until you talk to her, if you want. That way if, and that’s a tiny fucking if, you need to, we can leave immediately.”

Evan closes his eyes. “Can we…just wait? A little bit? I don’t…want to do that now.”

“Take your time,” Connor says.  

Evan leans his head against Connor’s shoulder. He focuses on his breathing and Connor’s hand awkwardly in his. Connor gently plays with Evan’s fingers and Evan tries to focus on calming down his brain. There’s too much happening in it, it’s too loud.

It takes a while, but Evan opens his eyes and the world is still there. His room looks the same. Nothing has changed— not yet, anyway.

“You okay?” Connor asks as Evan pulls away.

“I…don’t know.” Evan still feels slightly nauseous and lightheaded, but more than anything, he wants to get this over with. “I should…talk to my mom.”

“Okay.” Connor stands up and helps Evan to his feet. “Do you want me to come down with you or should I stay here?”

“Um…” Evan rocks back on his heels. “S-stay? I’ll… Yeah. I can… It’ll be fine.”

“I’ll be here,” Connor says, letting go of Evan’s hand. Evan wipes his hands on his pants. “Just fucking yell if you need me.”

“I will.” Evan stares at the door for a moment before he opens it. He tries to be as quiet as possible as he walks through the hallway and down the stairs. The house feels too quiet. Too tense. It’s like everything is waiting, about to pounce and tear Evan to shreds.

Which is silly. Because it’s a house. Just a house.

Heidi is sitting at the kitchen table. She looks up from a textbook in surprise when Evan enters. Evan quickly looks away and walks to the cupboards the grab a cup. He’ll lie and say he needs a drink if she asks why he came down.

“Connor still here?” she asks.

Evan nods.

Heidi hums. “How long have you two been dating?”

Evan takes a shaky breath and opens the fridge. He stares at the contents like it’s not filled with the same things it has been for the past week. “Uh…three weeks.” He pulls out the apple juice and pours it into the cup.

“Three weeks,” Heidi repeats softly. “You should’ve told me sooner,” she says and Evan winces, “I can’t believe you’ve been dating him for almost a month and this is my first time meeting him.”

Evan thinks he might start crying. He stares into the apple juice. “S-so you’re…okay with this?”

“With…Connor?”

“With me being, um, bi?”

There’s a slight pause before Heidi says, “Evan, honey, of course I am.”

Evan’s eyes start to water and he wipes at them before the tears can roll down his cheeks.

“Evan…” He turns to see Heidi stand up and hold her arms out to him. He meets her halfway and wraps his arms around her neck, trying hard not to cry any more. “I’m sorry,” she says, “if I ever said something that made you think you couldn’t tell me. I’m sorry you were scared.”

Evan takes a shaky breath and nods.

Heidi pulls away and takes his face in her hands. She smiles at him. “I’m so proud of you.” She presses a kiss to his forehead before wrapping him up in her arms again.

“I’m sorry I— that I ran out,” he mumbles.

“No apologies from you, mister,” Heidi says. “None of that. You just surprised me, I mean.” She steps away with a laugh. “Your first significant other and I meet him in my scrubs, just off a long shift and looking like a mess! Talk about first impressions.”

Evan sniffs and smiles weakly. “Y-you were fine, Mom, promise.”

She smooths down his hair. “Well tell Connor that I _can_ look presentable. I only _usually_ don’t.”

“You look fine, Mom.”

Heidi shakes her head. “You’re obligated to tell me that because you’re my son.” She hugs him again tightly. “I’m gonna let you get back to your boyfriend, but I _do_ want to talk later. I want to hear more about Connor than ‘he’s my friend’, m’kay?”

Evan nods. “Okay.” He doesn’t really know how to talk about Connor without gushing, but that isn’t exactly a problem anymore. Now his mom is probably _expecting_ him to.

She lets go of Evan and looks back to her textbook. “I’ll be here if you two need anything. I don’t have to tell you to keep the door open or anything, do I?”

Evan feels his face burn. “Mom!”

Heidi laughs. “I’m sorry, it’s required when you become a parent.”

Evan grabs the juice off the counter and hurries out of the kitchen, pausing at the bottom of the stairs for a second so that maybe his face will be less red when he goes back into his bedroom. The door is half open when he walks up to it, and when he pushes it open, Connor is laying on his bed scrolling on his phone.

Connor sits up when Evan opens the door. “Okay?”

Evan nods. “Okay.” He holds out the juice to Connor. “D-do you want this? I just…needed a reason to be down there and I don’t…actually want it…”

Connor shrugs and holds out a hand. “Yeah, sure.”

Evan almost kicks his door closed, before walking up to the bed and handing Connor the glass. “I don’t know why I was worried,” he says when he sits down next to Connor. “Kind of silly.”

“Not silly,” Connor says after taking a sip. “Do you want to watch something?”

Evan sighs. “Yes please.”

Connor finishes the juice and puts the glass on Evan’s nightstand before grabbing the laptop from the side of the bed. They scoot back so they’re leaning against the wall and Connor scrolls through YouTube’s recommended videos until they find a random cooking video, because most of their time is spent watching people make food and eating take out.

Evan rests his head on Connor’s shoulder as they watch someone make sushi look like koi fish. The music is calming and it’s nice to just sit with Connor and watch YouTube videos and pretend that today didn’t happen.

Too much happened.

Evan really doesn’t regret any of it — at some point in his life he’ll probably regret almost making out with Connor under the guise of ‘practice’ — but he’s drained. So it’s nice to just relax and listen to the gentle music so many cooking videos have.

“That’s Zoe,” Connor says when his phone vibrates about forty five minutes in. “Mom wants me home soon.” He glances to Evan. “You going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” Evan says, and he think he means it this time.

Connor searches his face for a moment before shrugging and texting Zoe back. “She’s leaving now,” he says a few minutes later. “Says five minutes.” He checks the YouTube video. “So we can absolutely finish this.”

Evan snorts and presses play again. When the video ends, Connor moves the laptop from his lap to Evans and swings his legs over the side of the bed. He links his fingers and stretches out his arms in front of him, cracking some point.

Evan makes a face. “Ew.”

Connor looks him directly in the eyes and cracks the rest of his knuckles.

Evan shudders. “It’s just the _sound_.”

“Feels good though.” Connor stands up and reaches into his pockets. He holds up a stack of bills.

Evan gets to his feet. “Wait—”

“Three dollars because I forgot to pay you that one time when we were here with Kleinman,” Connor says, putting it down on the nightstand. “Three for today.”

“You don’t really have to—”

“And five for the next two weeks.”

Connor puts the five down and pushes the money toward Evan. Evan puts his hand down over it.

“Connor—”

Connor taps Evan’s hand twice with his finger before leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to Evan’s lips. “Just checking,” he says when he pulls away as Evan’s ears go hot. “Zoe’s here, I can find my way out. I’ll text you.”

Connor closes the door behind him.

Evan falls back on the bed and covers his face with a pillow.

This is _such_ a bad idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> connor: its for science
> 
> me, aroace who has never kissed anyone: uhhhhh *runs*
> 
> ok. anyway. lets do this. 
> 
> credit to idiopathicsmile here on ao3, because i absolutely 100% stole the idea of using a codeword during fake dating from world ain’t ready. not only is it basically my favorite fic of all time, it’s arguably the best fake dating fic ever, and i kind of had to pay tribute/steal from it
> 
> yup. zoe was listening to night changes by 1d. shoutout to cam for that suggestion (also happy early birthday!!!!). i listened to a LOT of 1d after listening to this song because of autoplay on youtube it was wildfor the song connor puts on when she’s freaking out, i’m not really sure? i had a few in mind but decided to not name it. whatever older, gentle comfort song you want to think of, go for it
> 
> jared calls his moms mom and jo. stole that from my aunts, who are going to have their baby call them mommy and jo (short for joanne) when he’s old enough to talk!
> 
> [this is the buzzfeed quiz they took if you’re interested](https://www.buzzfeed.com/alexfinnis/what-is-your-relationship-score?utm_term=.eyJxKwKqX#.bt29x5xMQ). in taking it yourself or seeing what questions connor didn’t ask. whatever floats your boat
> 
> [this is the sushi video evan and connor were watching](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QIqMp-erjvg). i love junskitchen and i love his cats
> 
> i actually genuinely dislike a LOT of this chapter. fun fact! this chapter was originally going to start in the computer lab with connor giving evan money, but i wanted to add more time from when connor starts getting money to then and that’s… and then the entirety of saturday when they’re figuring stuff out? it all feels way too fast. 
> 
> i’m dying. another fun fact, this chapter stretches from december 5th to the 17th (2016). originally it was gonna be the 14th to the 18th. i have so many regrets, this is literally 99% filler. i’m just telling myself that it’s ok because fanfic is a first draft, so it doesn’t have to be perfect!! 
> 
> i’m not good at optimism and i am resisting the urge to light this on fire
> 
> hopefully next chapter comes out faster than this one did. and i hope it was finally worth it (i wrote a more kissing than i intended to and i’m not sure if that worked or not but it happened so. hey)


	12. $485

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some holiday spirits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohhhh my god this is LO N G sarah was like "just dont make this longer than your last chapter" when i expanded the outline and realized that it was going to be ridiculous and it's literally 2.5k longer than last chapter
> 
> i'm really sorry this took so long. 1. i didnt start it for like a week out of spite 2. i have a job? 3. i moved back home haha 4. college apps (again) 5. im working on original writing and have a deadline and had to speed write all last week. i literally wrote like half of this in two days. keep an eye out on literally any of my blogs for more info on that original writing stuff :0
> 
> lots of holiday stuff for a chapter thats...about a month too late for the holidays. whoops!! thank you to sarah for letting me harass you about hanukkah headcanons <3 btw!! im using the 2016-2017 yr for this fic, so hanukkah and christmas day both land on december 25th!
> 
> please check the end notes for...notes. and credit!! its v important. thank youuuuu 
> 
> **warnings:** anxiety/anxiety attacks, some darker humor? let me know if anything else should be added
> 
> enjoy~

Zoe is singing to herself as she gets ready. 

It grates against Connor’s nerves, but he’s not going to stop her. She’s smiling and happy, it’s not her fault that Connor is a bundle of shot nerves right now. If he feels like this, he can’t imagine what Evan feels like, and he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stop himself from checking with Evan another few times to make sure that Evan is  _ really _ okay with doing this. 

It doesn’t help that it snowed all day the day before and everything is covered with almost six inches of snow and then a thick layer of ice. Connor spent yesterday praying for a snow day like the rest of the kids in town, but their town is a garbage dump and doesn’t cancel for almost anything. They could be in the middle of the goddamn zombie apocalypse and the superintendent still would only call for a two hour delay.  

Zoe braids her hair as she wanders around the kitchen. “ _ City in the rear view and nothing in the distance. We laugh at all the talk— what do you think of getting lost? _ ”

Connor rests his chin in his hand as he picks at a piece of toast and glances out the window. It’s started snowing again, the snowflakes are tiny and light and not going to do anything to make school suddenly get cancelled. 

“ _ …the city shines like the sun at night and I feel it in my heart and my hips, I feel it _ ,” Zoe sings. “ _ Won’t you stay shotgun until the day I die? Stay shotgun ‘til the day I die— _ ”

Connor takes another bite of toast and stands up. He doesn’t bother texting Evan today, he’s just going to bring a bagel, and if Evan doesn’t want it, Connor will either eat it himself or pawn it off to Kleinman. He steps around Zoe and pulls the bagels down from the cabinet that has too many bagels, but Cynthia keeps buying them anyway. Zoe switches to humming as she watches him pull out a bagel and wrap it in plastic. He flips her off and she sticks her tongue out at him. She’s never asked why he keeps bringing bagels to school, so it could be worse. 

“We should leave soon,” she says, tying off her braid. “The roads are going to be hell.” 

Connor nods and stuffs the bagel into his bag. “You texting Ev?” 

“Mhm.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket and wanders over to the coat closet. She throws Connor his jacket at him — there’s a heavy winter coat right there that Cynthia bought last year, insisting Connor needed it, but he wore it once and then stuffed it in the back of the closet — and tugs out her own coat. She winds a scarf around her neck and pulls on gloves before putting the coat on and zipping up. 

Connor puts on his jacket. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and finds Evan’s gloves in the right one. He takes them off and looks at them for a second before putting them on.

Zoe has enough sense to start the car when she gets up in the morning, meaning they thankfully don’t have to drive around in an icebox. If anyone asked, Connor would shrug and say that he feels nothing, but it’s fucking  _ cold out _ . The wind makes it worse and what looked like gentle snowflakes from inside feel like tiny piercing knives. 

Winter is only fun for a few weeks. 

Zoe shudders when she slams the car door shut behind her. “This sucks,” she mutters as she throws her in the back. Connor does the same. She plugs the AUX cord into her phone and scrolls through her playlists, lips pursed. 

“Don’t choose something shitty,” Connor says. 

Zoe flips him off. Whatever she chooses is soft and gentle with nice harmonies and lyrics that probably mean something more than Connor is will to dissect right now. His lit class would probably have a field day with it. 

They’re almost halfway to Evan’s when the song ends. Connor leans forward and turns down the music. 

Zoe glances at him quickly before looking back to the road. She’s driving more carefully than she usually does, watching for ice and snowdrifts and the random animals that sometimes come bounding out of the forests along the roads. “What?” 

Connor fiddles with his ring. “So, uh, Evan and I might like…tell people. About us. Today.” 

There’s a slight pause before Zoe says, “Okay.” 

“We’re not going to fucking…announce it to the school or anything,” Connor mutters. “But like… You know what I mean.” 

“Yeah, I do. Holding hands and stuff?”

Connor looks out the window. Thinking about holding Evan’s hand makes him blush and he doesn’t need Zoe commenting on that right now. “Yeah. It’s just fucking hand holding and no one should care but—” 

“Well…” Zoe drawls. “Not to be  _ that _ person, but shit spreads faster when it’s  _ not  _ heterosexual.” 

“Yeah that’s, uh, what I actually…wanted to ask you about.” 

“If you’re asking if I’m straight I’ll throw you out into the snow,” Zoe says lightly.

Connor rolls his eyes. “I was wondering if you hear anyone talk any shit about Ev, if you would tell me.” 

She’s silent for a long moment. “You aren’t going to do something you shouldn’t, are you?” 

“No.” He actually can’t promise that. There’s no promise that someone saying the wrong thing won’t set him off. But he’ll try. “I just… I mean, Ev isn’t out yet so today…is fucking  _ it _ and—” 

“You want to protect him,” Zoe says softly.

Connor doesn’t answer that.

She sighs. “If I hear anything through the grapevine, I’ll let you know, but talk to someone about it before you break any faces. It doesn’t help Evan if you aren’t there because you got suspended because you gave someone a black eye for being a dick.” 

“Would deserve more than a black eye,” Connor grumbles. 

“Don’t I know it,” Zoe muses. 

Connor glances over to her. She has a tight expression on her face and is gripping the steering wheel. He has the strong urge to hug her right now, except for the fact that they’re in a car on an icy road and she’s driving. Except for the fact that they don’t hug. 

He was never really around all that much to protect her. 

“Thanks, Zo.” 

“Of course.” She doesn’t smile as she turns up the music, just leans back in her seat and sinks into the music.

Zoe’s never needed or wanted his protection. If anything, she had to protect herself from Connor, which sits wrong in his stomach. They haven’t talked about anything. They probably should, but they just walk on the broken glass and pretend their feet aren’t bleeding.

“Hey, Connor,” Zoe says after a few minutes, “about Evan.” 

Connor grimaces. “Are you about to give me the shovel talk?” 

“Do you want me to?”

“Not really,” he admits. It would be weird, but understandable. If Connor hurts Evan, he’ll beat himself up enough about it. Zoe shouldn’t feel like she has to too. 

“I was just going to say I’m happy for you,” she says. They turn onto Evan’s street. “Cause I am.” 

“Thanks,” Connor murmurs. 

Zoe turns up the music a little and pulls into Evan’s driveway, swearing as the car slips on the snow. “Probably shouldn’t have done that,” she mutters. She honks twice and then sits back in her seat. 

Connor looks at the snow covered path to the front door. They probably shoveled at some point yesterday, but there’s still a few inches of snow on the ground, topped by a layer of ice that’s a bitch to break through. “I’ll get him,” he says after mild debate. 

“Hm?” 

“Be right back.” 

Zoe grimaces as Connor opens the door and lets the cold air in. Connor raises his eyebrows at her and holds the door open a moment longer. When he finally closes it, she flips him off through the window. Connor just rolls his eyes and breaks the ice and snow in the path to the Hansens’ door. His boots aren’t exactly made for snow, but they’re surprisingly waterproof, which he only knows because he once stepped in an ankle deep puddle outside their house on accident. 

He grabs the side of the house as he slips on ice and gets thrown off balance. He glances back over his shoulder to see Zoe laughing at him in the car. He flips her off before letting go and braving the rest of the walkway.  

Zoe likes to think his suffering is funny. 

Connor kicks some ice away from the doorstep as he knocks. He wonders if Zoe will get mad at him if he keeps bugging her to go slowly in the parking lot. Last year they almost skidded into one of the streetlights when they turned into the school parking lot, because the school is terrible and doesn’t plow well or salt. Or sand. Or do anything. 

They only have school when it’s safe for students. Safe meaning the chances of death aren’t one to one yet. 

The front door swings open and a breathless Heidi Hansen stands in front of Connor. 

“Connor!” she exclaims, shoving loose hair out of her face. 

“Morning, Mrs. Hansen,” Connor says, putting his hands in his pockets. 

She laughs. “Formalities. Just call me Heidi, hun.” 

“Uh…okay.” 

“Evan will be down in a sec, he heard the honk and told me to tell you he’s on his way.” She sighs. “We’re off to a late start this morning, lost power last night during the storm and our alarm clocks are all off.” She checks her watch on her wrist and shouts over her shoulder, “Ev! You’re going to be late!” She turns back to Connor with a stressed smile and a crease between her forehead. “It’s so nice of you to drive him every day, he really does hate that bus.” 

Connor nods. “It’s nothing.” 

They hear Evan clambering down the stairs before they see him. Evan ducks under his mom’s arm and grabs Connor by the elbow. “Let’s go,” he says. 

Heidi grabs Evan by the hood and pulls him back to press a kiss to his cheek. “Drive safe, kids. Watch out for ice in the parking lot and text me when you get there.” 

Evan nods and starts tugging Connor down the steps. Connor smiles to himself when he notices Evan trying to step in the footprints Connor had already made. 

“Nice seeing you, Connor!” Heidi calls out as Connor as Connor keeps Evan from slipping on the ice Connor had slipped on when walking up to the house. 

“You too, Mrs. Hansen,” he answers, lifting the hand that isn’t supporting Evan to wave. 

“It’s Heidi!” she says before shutting the door. 

Evan laughs and his breath puffs out in a little cloud. “She hates when people call her that.” 

“Hey,” Connor says when they reach the car, his hand resting on the door handle. “You’re okay with this, right?” 

Evan blinks. “This?” 

“Us. School.” 

“Oh.” 

Connor yanks on the door. “Because I mean, if you’re not, that’s fine, I’m not going to pressure you into—”

Evan takes Connor’s free hand in his. “It’s fine. I’m… Well I’m not good, I-I’m not really  _ ever _ good, but I’m as good as I can be, especially about this.” 

“Evan—” 

“I’ll tell you if I need to stop,” Evan says seriously. He reaches behind Connor and closes the car door again.  “Trust me to let you know where my boundaries are and I’ll trust you, okay?” 

“I don’t want anyone giving you a hard time,” Connor mutters, glancing away. He meets Zoe’s eyes through the window and she raises her eyebrows at him. 

“L-let me handle that. I always wanted to be actually out eventually, I just…didn’t have a reason to. That’s for me, not you.” Evan taps his thumb against Connor’s hand before stepping closer and pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Connor’s mouth. “Come on, it’s cold and Zoe’s probably getting impatient.” 

“You took your time,” Zoe says when they climb into the car. She turns down the music a tiny bit. “Buckle up and get ready for hell.” 

Connor grimaces and reaches up to hold on to the grab handle. 

Evan gives Connor a worried look. “Should I…?” 

“The school doesn’t give a shit about the parking lot,” Connor says as Zoe pulls out of Evan’s driveway. “You usually have to park blind after it snows.” 

“Park blind,” Evan repeats slowly. 

“Can’t see any of the lines,” Zoe explains. “Everyone just guesses and hopes for the best.” 

“Not that any of you were any good at parking to begin with,” Connor grumbles. He doesn’t miss parking in the school lot. People take too long, people hardly ever park straight, and the assholes in the pickup trucks are usually both aggressively patriotic douchebags who like to keep their bass up to death levels and jerks who don’t stay in the lines. 

“Also we almost died last year,” Zoe adds casually. 

“What?!” Evan grabs his seatbelt with his hands. 

“Stopped before the turn into the parking lot. Turned going maybe fifteen,” Connor says flatly. “Immediately started skidding. Car almost went horizontal,” he gestures with his arm, “almost went up the sidewalk. Almost crashed into one of the lights. But I got the car under control and it was fine.” 

“The vice principal saw,” Zoe says. “She asked how fast we were going and I was so freaked out I thought I was going to start crying. I literally saw my life flash before my eyes and most of it was me sitting in various desks, which is so depressing.” 

“Skid school saves lives,” Connor recites dutifully. His mom forced him to go while he was waiting to take his driving test. The classroom section was boring as fuck, but skidding through water and weaving through cones had been fun. The boy in the back kept screaming which was less fun, but one of the girls whooped whenever they skidded around in a one eighty like they were in an action movie, so overall it was surprisingly not shitty. “We skidded again literally like a few weeks later but see if the school gives a shit.” 

Zoe hums. “We didn’t get as close to dying that time though.” 

“Shame.” 

“Evan, hit him for me.” 

Evan blinks. “What?” 

“Please?”

“Uh…” Evan reaches over and punches Connor in the arm. 

Connor rolls his eyes and punches Evan right back. 

“Thank you.” Zoe turns up the music and slows as they turn onto a side street. 

—«·»—  


“Here you go,” Connor says, passing the bagel to Evan. 

Evan stares at it for a second before taking it. “You didn’t text to ask, I s-sort of thought you forgot.” 

Connor frowns. “No, sorry. I just…didn’t text you this morning. It’s been a weird uh…” He checks his phone. “Two hours. I’ll text you tomorrow.” 

“You don’t have to,” Evan says, unwrapping the bagel. “But thanks for bringing this, with the power outage messing everything up I didn’t have time for anything this morning.” He starts pulling the bagel to pieces. “Like, um, my homework? I needed to finish something for English, but I didn’t and I’m uh,” he laughs nervously, “really hoping she doesn’t check that.” 

“I’ll text you tomorrow,” Connor repeats. “And you’ll be fine, it’s one assignment.” 

Evan looks down at his bagel. 

“Seriously, besides if you did something that’s better than nothing. You’ll be okay, Ev.” Connor bumps their shoulders together because he really doesn’t know what else to do right now.

Evan sighs and leans against Connor’s side a little more. “I guess. You’re probably right, I think.” 

“I’m always right,” Connor says, wrapping an arm around Evan’s should because holy shit he’s allowed to do that now. 

“You aren’t,” Evan counters. “You really aren’t.” Connor opens his mouth to protest but Evan just shakes his head. “If I watch you eat one more gross food combination, I’ll break up with you. And probably be sick. You’re never right when it comes to that stuff.” 

Connor’s heart skips a beat when Evan says ‘break up’. He says it so casually, like they’ve actually been dating for the weeks they’ve claimed. Like this is a real, tangible thing. 

He swallows and rolls his eyes, trying to play it off so Evan can’t tell how off guard he was caught. “Okay, fine. I’ll give you that.” 

—«·»—  


“Rehearsal?” Evan asks when Connor meets him by his locker. 

Connor nods and reaches for Evan’s hand. They literally have no reason to hold hands right now, the halls are basically empty, but he’s tired and only glimpses of Evan in the hall today weren’t enough to get him through it. Mostly that was Alana’s pencil pokes in literature. 

He feels stretched thin. A little like he may snap, but he doesn’t know if he has the energy for that. It’s not exactly a physical exhaustion, more of a mental one. One that makes him want to lay down and stare at a wall for the rest of time. 

“You okay?” Evan asks. He rubs his thumb against Connor’s as he puts away the last of his books. 

“People,” Connor manages. Too many people, much too close to him. Too much standing and noise and frustration from everyone all around. “And Zoe says the practice rooms are full today.” 

“Let’s just go sit in the library,” Evan says. “The one here, not across the street. No one will mind.” 

Connor lets Evan pull him through the hallway, weaving through the last of the students before pulling open the double doors to the library. Usually, Connor would sit against the window in the back corner, because this library is too open with ceilings too high and there’s no place to hide, but Evan just walks them over to the couch in the center of the floor and sits down, tugging Connor down after him. There are a few students still floating around the library and a librarian clacking away at the computer, but everyone is lost in their own work and not paying attention to them. 

Okay. Okay.

Connor closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 

“Alright?” Evan asks.

Connor nods. “Alright. 

When Connor opens his eyes again, he feels a little bit better. A tiny bit looser; it’s a little bit easier to breathe. There are only two students left in the library and at some point, Evan pulled out his phone and earbuds without disturbing Connor, because he’s watching a video. He notices Connor shift and pauses the video, pulling an earbud out. 

“Everything okay?” he asks, eyebrows drawn together. 

“It’s been a long fucking day, Ev,” Connor says. He leans against the back of the couch and lets tension he didn’t even know he was holding in rush out of his body. He glances at their still joined hands. He kind of forgot about that. “No one bugged you, right?” 

Evan gives him a small smile. “No. I don’t think too many people noticed, we didn’t really see each other today and we aren’t exactly making out against the lockers between classes.” 

Connor snorts. “Yeah really fucking destroy the purity of these hallways.” 

“You say that like people don’t make out in dark corners every hour.” 

Connor raises his eyebrows. “How many gay couples, though? Take that white Christian suburbia.” 

“I’m not making out with you to spite society,” Evan says with an amused look. 

Connor bites back his next question, ‘Would you make out with me because you wanted to?’ and leans forward to grab his bag off the floor. “Guess that’s fair. We’d definitely get written up for PDA.” 

“You can get written up for that?” Evan asks in surprise. 

Connor looks over his shoulder at him. “Well yeah, if you’re the wrong person. Or  _ with  _ the wrong person.” 

Evan makes a face. 

Connor pulls out his book before leaning back. He turns so he’s leaning against the armrest and pulls his legs up onto the couch. He’s about to settle for pulling his knees up to his chest when Evan lifts his arms and phone up unprompted. Connor stretches his legs out over Evan’s lap and Evan rests his arms against Connor’s shins. 

Evan starts to put his earbud back in when he does a double take and stares at Connor’s book. “What are you  _ reading _ ?” 

“Anna Karenina.” Connor turns it to show him the cover. 

“ _ Why _ ?” 

Connor shrugs. “Saw it on Larry’s bookshelf. Grabbed it. Brought it to school.” 

“And you’ve been carrying it around all day?” Evan asks. 

Connor holds it in one hand for a moment before passing it over to Evan. “Not that heavy.” 

Evan opens to the back of the book. “Connor this is like eight hundred pages.” 

“Yeah it’ll take me a little bit to get through.” He takes the book back from Evan when it’s held out to him. 

“Is it good?” 

Connor shrugs. “Not sure. I’m only sixteen pages in. So far some guy with a name I can’t pronounce because Russian was cheating on his wife with like…I think a governess? And yeah, the wife is freaking the fuck out.” 

“As she should,” Evan says seriously. 

Connor hums in agreement and flips back to his page. “I’ll keep you updated.” 

Evan goes back to his video and Connor continues to read, skipping over some of the names in his head because he really has no idea how to pronounce them. Larry would probably know if he asked, but he’s not about to start a book club with his dad. It’s slower going than his usual reading, mostly because he  sometimes gets distracted by Evan moving his arms or just making a face. 

Connor kind of hates how much he enjoys just existing with Evan. Like not even talking to Evan, even though that’s really nice too, but just being in the same space as him. There’s something comforting about it that Connor is getting increasingly attached to and he really needs to not do that. 

Someone says something softly as the library doors open. Connor looks up to see Jared dumping his bag on a table a few feet away. Alana is with him, carefully stacking a pile of posters next to her binders. Evan sits up a little straighter. 

“We get it,” Jared says, looking over at Connor and Evan, “you’re cute. Stop making the rest of us feel bad for not having physically close platonic relationships.”

Alana shoots Jared a look and Connor just rolls his eyes. 

“Platonic,” Evan echoes. “Jared, Connor and I are dating.” 

Jared gives Connor a wide eyed look. Connor just raises his eyebrows. He hadn’t really kept Jared updated on the situation, though Jared would occasionally text him and ask if he was doing lots of furry commissions or something. Connor has found that Jared uses too many emojis and a lot of text speech. Connor mostly just responds with the middle finger emoji. He didn’t feel like showing Jared all the commissions he was doing, which were usually surprisingly simple. There was one that was just flowers and the person way over tipped him, but he’s not complaining. He’s also not complaining about the one person who sent him twenty bucks with a note that said “don’t want a drawing, go live your gay dreams”.

“Oh, is this new?” Alana asks. “You haven’t mentioned it before.” 

Connor and Evan exchange a look. Connor resists the urge to just say ‘we don’t talk about personal shit’ because Alana and Evan could talk all the time. She could be talking to Evan. They could be best friends for all he knows. He doesn’t spend all his time with Evan and Evan very much exists outside of Connor and the lie they’re wrapped up in. 

“Uh…not really? We’ve been dating for three weeks, we just haven’t…” Evan trails off and looks back to Connor for help. 

Connor shrugs. “Who cares. If people want to talk shit, they’ll get hit.” 

“Connor  _ no _ ,” Evan says. 

Jared snorts. “Is that why you’re carrying around that fucking brick of a book?” He gestures to the book that’s now resting against Connor’s legs. 

“Yeah.” Connor picks it up. “So I can throw it at assholes. Like you.” He mimes throwing it as Jared flips him off.

Alana grabs Jared by the collar and drags him into a seat. “This is going to take forever as is, come on.” 

“What are you doing?” Evan asks, taking out his earbuds. Connor really hopes he doesn’t get up and move over to Jared and Alana’s table. He’s comfortable and doesn’t want to move. Ever, preferably. 

“Yeah and did Jared become officially part of the council?” Connor adds. 

“Not officially,” Alana says. “But he’s helping me fix some posters. We thought we had everything confirmed but…” 

“The rest of the eboard sucks ass,” Jared grumbles. He uncaps a sharpie and writes on one of the posters. “They kept fucking changing the spirit week days. Fuck you, Monica. Fuck you.” 

“Jared already changed the poster five times,” Alana explains. “Our public relations person hasn’t been showing up, so I asked Jared if he could do posters while I ran the social media. But since we had already printed the posters when they decided to change one of the days…”

“Which they decided in a fucking group chat I’m not in!” Jared complains, throwing his hands in the air. “Alana, I fucking hate this.” 

Alana puts a poster aside and takes another. “We’re just fixing them by hand.” 

“Fuck spirit week,” Jared hisses. 

She gives him a sharp look. “Anyway, enough about the eternal disaster that is our student council, despite my many attempts to fix it, why are you two here?” 

“Who would want to be here?” Jared mutters. 

“Zoe’s got rehearsal for…” Connor glances to Evan. 

“Last minute rehearsal before the concert tomorrow,” Evan says. 

Connor nods. “That.” 

He’s been trying to be better when it comes to Zoe, mostly by giving her her space and knowing what she cares about which he’s summed up to essentially be ‘music’, but she does so many ensembles with so many rehearsals that sometimes he has a hard time keeping track. It doesn’t help that one of the first things to go when his brain decides to be a little shit is random memories. Like things he’s supposed to know are just gone. Dates and times especially. Somehow — thankfully, miraculously — Evan always seems to be on top of those. Not necessarily because he has a better memory, but because he’s always writing things down. Someone will say a date and it’ll be on four pieces of paper and a note in Evan’s phone. Connor is pretty sure it comes from Evan being anxious about forgetting things, but it’s benefiting both of them at the moment. 

“Oh yeah, the concert,” Alana says. “I offered to help sell tickets that night if they needed help. 

Connor chews on the inside of his cheek as he tries to remember anything about band concerts. “Doesn’t the music club thing sell tickets? The parents?” 

Alana shrugs. “I was going to go anyway, I figured that if they needed the extra hand I could offer it. Since it’s a holiday concert they tend to have a bigger turn out than most concerts.” 

“Christmas concert,” Jared counters. 

“Holiday concert,” Alana says, “is what’s on all the announcements.” 

Jared scoffs. “The posters might say that, but trust me, it’s going to be mostly Christmas songs with one or two other songs thrown in for other winter holidays. I can feel it in my Jewish bones.”

Connor gives Evan a flat look and Evan laughs behind his hand. 

“Are you going, Connor?” Alana asks. 

Connor looks over to her. “What?” 

“The holiday concert. Zoe’s in it, are you going?” 

“Uh…” Connor spins the ring on his middle finger. “Yes, but like…not to watch.” 

Jared scoffs. “If you aren’t watching, what’s the point of going.” 

Evan’s mouth makes an ‘o’. “I forgot about that,” he says softly. 

Connor scrunches up his face. “I  _ wish _ I could forget.” 

“Forget about what?” Jared asks, looking between the two of them with narrowed eyes. 

Evan smiles. “Connor is in chorus.” 

There’s a pause. Alana blinks in surprise. 

“You’re shitting me,” Jared whispers. 

“He’s a tenor,” Evan adds. He says it like he’s being helpful. He’s looking at Connor with a overly satisfied look on his face and Connor wants to grab one of the cushions off the couch their sitting on and shove it in his face. It’s unfair that he can look so cute when he’s ruining Connor’s  _ life _ . 

Jared laughs. “Oh my  _ god _ ! Well now I  _ have _ to go— I need to see Connor Murphy singing Christmas carols.” 

“What about your Jewish bones?” Alana asks. 

Jared raises his eyebrows at Connor. 

“I’m not telling you shit,” Connor says, slumping against the arm of the couch. “If you want to know what we’re singing, pay for your fucking ticket.” 

“You don’t want to get me in for free?” Jared asks, brandishing his sharpie. 

Connor turns to Evan. “Hey, Ev, want a free ticket to the concert.” 

Evan laughs. “You aren’t allowed to do that.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

“You aren’t,” Alana says. 

Connor flips her off. 

“I’ll go though,” Evan says. “I, uh, might need a ride there? But, yeah. I’ll go. I want to see you all dressed up and not singing the words to any of the songs.” 

Alana furrows her eyebrows. “I know attendance is most of the grade for the concert, but don’t you actually have to look like you’re singing? Won’t someone notice?” 

“There’s going to be so many fucking kids on that stage,” Connor says. “It’s the worst and I hate it.” 

“ _ Oh _ right you had that dress rehearsal today,” Evan murmurs. Yeah he did, and Connor’s trying not to think about it too much. The director had been beyond stressed and it had stressed Connor out and one of the basses had absolutely been high out of his mind and Connor  _ wishes _ that had been him. But no, he’d been painfully sober. 

“But I know how to fake it,” Connor promises Alana. “The most successful cheaters are the ones you never know about.” 

“Wow, spitting some truth today, Murphy,” Jared says. 

Alana hands Jared another poster. “Just fix your posters, Jared.”

* * *

 

“Do you still need a ride tonight?” 

Evan looks up from his tacos. His really fucking depressing tacos. “Tonight?” he asks, scrunching up his nose. 

Connor pokes Evan’s taco with the extra fork Evan grabbed. “Yeah, concert.” 

“Oh right. Um…” Evan reaches down to his backpack and pulls out his phone. He taps on it for a few seconds, chewing on his bottom lip. “Uh…yeah, I think…my mom’s going to be in class. Or is going to be going class? Uh, yeah.” 

“You want to come over after school?” The taco shell cracks as Connor taps it and Evan bats away Connor’s fork with his own. “Or like…whenever the fuck Zoe is done. I can drive you back here for the concert if you don’t mind being annoyingly early. Or Zoe. Or…whoever is driving.” Connor puts down his fork. 

“H-how early?” Evan asks, looking down at his taco. He pushes the tray toward Connor. 

Connor hands Evan the weird crumble dessert thing and then continues to break up the taco shell with his fork. “Concert starts at seven, Zo has to be here at…I think six? She’s got a lot of shit happening. I don’t have to be here until six thirty. So it’s not that bad. Alana’ll definitely be here by the time I have to go back if you want to hang with her.” He crushes part of the taco into tiny pieces. “I’d sneak you into the back because it can’t be hard, but I figure you don’t want that.” 

“Not really,” Evan murmurs. 

“I bet I can also convince Jared that if he shows up earlier he’ll see the chorus doing shitty vocal warm ups.” 

Evan ducks his head and smiles a little. 

Connor nudges him. “You know, you don’t have to come tonight. Jared already knows the situation and Zoe won’t care.” Evan furrows his eyebrows. “If Alana asks I’ll say you had a scholarship essay to write, she gets that.” 

“I— n-no, I want to go. And just because… I mean, I  _ said _ I would go and I can’t just— um, I’m supposed to be, like, committing to stuff? So,” Evan takes a deep breath, “I’ve committed to it. Just… _ people _ ,” he says, echoing Connor from the day before.

Connor nods knowingly. “Okay. You’re okay with my house, right?” Evan nods. It’s kind of nice knowing that Connor’s house is somewhere Evan feels comfortable and safe, at least most of the time. It’s nice in a painful way, because it reminds Connor of how much he likes having Evan in his life. “How’s this then? You come over after school and we chill until Zoe and I have to leave for the concert. If you’re still feeling shitty, we can drop you off at your house on the way back to school.” 

Evan stabs his dessert a few times. “That…would be good. I think.” He glances to Connor out of the corner of his eye. “B-but I’m still going to the concert. I have to.” 

“You don’t  _ have _ to, it’s just a fucking Christmas concert.” 

“I have to,” Evan repeats, softer. 

Connor just rests his chin in his hands. “Okay,” he says. The beginnings of a plan are already forming in his mind. “You’ll be there then.” 

—«·»—  


**From: C** ****  
**To: Z** **  
**      you know how concerts work right? 

**From: Z** ****  
**To: C** **  
**      Duh?? It’s not rocket science and also it’s all in the programs they hand out just check those when we get there tonight

**From: C** ****  
**To: Z** ****  
     evs coming and hes having a bad day so i was trying to figure out when i could get back to him   
     also hes coming over after school before the concert   
     do  you think practice rooms will be open?

**From: Z** ****  
**To: C** ****  
     Ohhhh   
     Ok 1. Slow down and let me respond gdi   
     2. That’s fine I was driving him anyway   
     3. Hell no everyone’s panicking   
     Also the order for the concert’s been confirmed but I’ll grab a program and double check for you. I know where Evan should sit to make him easier to find, I’ll tell you both later   
     Wait I’m at lunch right now does that mean you’re in class??   
  
**From: C** ****  
**To: Z** **  
**      thanks gotta go

**From: Z** ****  
**To: C** **  
**      Stop texting in class!!!

—«·»—

Zoe doesn’t have a real rehearsal after school, just a quick run through of a few of the songs and then stage setup, but Connor and Evan decide to hide out in the library. Band kids tend to be loud and excitable, even when they aren’t playing instruments. Connor would call them obnoxious and Evan would probably say that’s unfairly mean. Connor brings Evan to the back corner of the library, where they sit up on the window sill in silence, Evan listening to music with his eyes closed while Connor reads. 

Zoe finds them there when she’s ready to leave. Her hair is twisted up into a messy bun and her sleeves are pushed up to her elbows, jacket draped over one arm and backpack slung over one shoulder. She raises her eyebrows at Connor as she puts her stuff down and gets ready for the winter weather. 

Connor puts his book down. “Ev,” he says, touching Evan’s wrist lightly. “We can go home now.” 

Evan nods and gets up, but doesn’t take out his headphones. When Connor stands, Evan just reaches out and takes Connor’s hand. As they follow Zoe out of the school, Evan types on his phone with one hand. He glances over to Connor as Connor’s phone buzzes in his pocket. 

**From: Ev** ****  
**To: Connor** **  
**      Srory overstimulated and talking istn happening right now

Connor squeezes Evan’s hand.

**From: Connor** ****  
**To: Ev** **  
**      dude youre fine dont worry about it

Evan lets out a little sigh and walks closer to Connor. 

“He okay?” Zoe asks Connor softly when Evan’s climbed into the car. 

“Tired,” Connor says. “I told him we could drop him off before the concert if he still feels bad but he seems pretty determined to go.” 

“You’re both too stubborn,” she grumbles, pulling open the driver’s side door. “It’s annoying.” 

Connor climbs into the car as Zoe turns it on. Evan lifts his head up from where he’s leaning it against the window. He glances from Connor to the seat. 

Connor hesitates before he closes the door and slides into the middle seat. “Here?” he asks. He reaches up and pulls the seat belt from the ceiling. No one ever sits in the middle, there’s no reason for that. 

Zoe selects a playlist as Connor buckles in. This morning she was listening to something bubbly and pop-y, and Connor knows that when she’s low energy she prefers to listen to stuff that’s more upbeat in an attempt to hype herself up, but she chooses a song that’s gentle and slow with few lyrics. 

They pull out of the parking lot and Evan shifts from leaning against the window to leaning against Connor’s side. He laces their fingers together and just lets what feels like all his weight fall onto Connor. Connor has to stop himself from reaching over and running his fingers through Evan’s hair, because the temptation is there and the temptation is  _ strong _ . 

When they get home, Zoe heads straight to the kitchen. 

“Remember to eat before we leave,” she says. “Like actual food. Because we won’t be back until like nine thirty and I’m not going to listen to your sorry ass complain.” 

Connor rolls his eyes. He kicks his boots out of the way and then pushes Evan’s sneakers against the wall. “Let’s go upstairs, we can grab food later,” he says. 

Evan trails upstairs just a few steps behind him. Connor moves his laptop and a pile of old sketchbooks off his bed and onto his desk, and Evan immediately falls onto the covers. 

Connor sits on the edge of the bed. He doesn’t want to be presumptuous or overstep, but napping with Evan is genuinely one of the best things he’s ever experienced. Especially on bad days. There’s something weirdly calming and comforting about even just holding hands with someone he trusts and cares about. It’s not like Evan fixes everything, but he makes it easier. 

Connor isn’t sure if it’s the same for Evan, but he likes to think it is. It makes him feel less bad about using Evan for his own selfish reasons. 

Connor reaches over to where his bag is sitting on his desk and pulls Anna Karenina out of it. He’s finally met the title character, took fucking long enough, and he’s okay with just reading for a while if Evan wants to nap or something. 

Evan gives Connor a weird look when he goes to move to his desk chair. Connor can’t read it, whatever is in Evan’s eyes, but it makes him pause. 

Connor lifts the book a little. “Just reading.” 

Evan opens his mouth and then bites down on his lip. He clears his throat and then says, very softly, “You can stay here.” He puts his hand on the space on the bed next to him. 

“You sure?” Connor asks. He’s already moving closer but he has to keep pretending he’s not desperate. Keep pretending so he doesn’t scare Evan away. 

Evan nods. He grabs Connor’s elbow and pulls him even closer. Then he curls against Connor’s side. He’s still got his headphones in and opens up YouTube on his phone and opens a video, no longer paying attention to what Connor does. 

Connor watches him for what’s probably an inappropriately long time before he shifts a little bit and starts reading. It’s kind of uncomfortable how comfortable Connor is with this— sharing a bed with Evan, basically cuddling Evan, being so near to Evan for no reason other than they both want to be. It’s times like this where the line between fake and real gets so blurred it almost doesn’t exist. 

And that’s fucking terrifying.

The characters are talking about a ball when Connor realizes that Evan’s asleep. With Evan unconscious, he lets himself stare a little longer, a little more openly. He memorizes Evan’s face, like it’ll disappear at any second. 

It could. Connor can’t predict the future. 

—«·»—  


Connor looks up from his book when Cynthia knocks on his doorframe.

“Made spaghetti, if you want some,” she says, putting the dish towel she was holding over her shoulder. “Zoe says you should eat before the concert.” 

Connor glances down to Evan, who’s still fast asleep and has wrapped his arms around Connor’s torso. “Yeah, I’ll be down in a minute.” 

“You have your clothes for tonight, right?” 

Connor nods to the shirt and pants on the dresser. “I’m good.” 

“Okay, good.” Cynthia smiles at him, eyes soft. It’s almost painfully maternal. Connor doesn’t know the last time she looked at him like that. “I’m glad you’re going tonight.” 

“I have to.” Connor notes the page he’s on and closes the book, tossing it to the other end of the bed. “I’d fail if I didn’t.” 

“I know, but it means a lot to Zoe that you’re going to be there, even if it’s an obligation. And you’re following through with it which is…” Connor looks away because this is starting to get to be too much and if Cynthia starts tearing up he’s going to be at a complete and total loss of what to say. “Your father and I will be there, but you probably won’t see us, since I think you’ll be sitting with rest of the chorus. We’re leaving after you, anyway.” 

“Okay.” They’ve already gone over this. It’s like Cynthia is running some sort of heist and needs all her players to have every aspect of the plan memorized. Connor is fine winging it, but there’s a very solid play beneath his feet. He’s okay with it for now. It’s not affecting his life that much, especially if he’s expected to stay away from his parents. 

He moves to wake up Evan because he doesn’t really know where else his mom is going to take this conversation and he’s trying to save his energy so he can handle the concert. “Hey, Ev,” he says, pulling Evan’s arms gently off his torso. “There’s food.” 

Evan pushes himself up on his hands and blinks blearily at Connor. One of his headphones has fallen out and his hair is flattened on one side and sticking up on the other. 

Connor is painfully aware that his mom is still standing in the doorway when he reaches out and smooths Evan’s hair down. “Food.” 

Evan blinks at Connor and glances to the doorway before he leans forward and presses his face against the crook of Connor’s neck. Connor runs his fingers through Evan’s hair and hopes he’s not too red right now. He glances to Cynthia, who smiles at him with that soft look again and motions over her shoulder before stepping out of the doorway and disappearing down the hall. 

“She gone?” Evan asks softly after a few moments. His breath is warm against Connor’s neck and Connor is absolutely dying right now. There is no way he can continue on like this.

“Yeah, just left,” Connor says. 

Evan pulls away, but not far. Not far enough to give Connor a break. Evan searches Connor’s face for something, still so close that Connor can feel his breath on his skin. Connor would barely have to move to kiss him, but he has  _ got  _ to have more control than that. 

He told Evan that he thinks of him as a friend, but Evan has no idea how much deeper it runs than that. Hopefully. This is so fucked up, but Connor’s going to cling to it for as long as he can. 

Evan looks away and gives up looking for whatever he was looking for in Connor’s eyes. “You should eat,” he says. He climbs over Connor’s legs to get out of the bed. 

“You should too,” Connor points out. He takes Evan’s hand and lets Evan tug him to his feet. “Zoe  _ will _ flip if you don’t.” 

“She’s aggressive,” Evan murmurs. He doesn’t stop holding Connor’s hand, so Connor doesn’t stop holding his. 

Dinner is weird, because Zoe is eating while pacing and Cynthia is sitting in the living room with the television on. Larry is still at work, because it’s early and not at all when they usually eat dinner. Connor eats because Zoe is watching and Evan probably does for the exact same reason. They don’t talk, they just eat and Connor thinks this stressed silence is probably closer to what Evan was expecting the first time he was over for dinner. Not the verbal sparring he got to witness instead. 

Connor’s fucked up their friendship pretty badly since the beginning. Whatever there is here that they can call a friendship. 

Zoe keeps checking her phone for the time. Connor figures being a few minutes late won’t end the world, but he doesn’t feel like fighting Zoe on this today. So when she says they should start getting ready, he dumps his and Evan’s bowls in the sink and goes upstairs to change. 

Evan flops back onto Connor’s bed as Connor goes to the bathroom to change. He stares at himself in the mirror for a moment, buttoning up his shirt and feeling uncomfortably formal. He kind of hates how concerts require formal all black. It’s like he’s going to a funeral. 

Maybe the funeral of his eardrums, but that might be kind of dramatic, even for him.

Evan looks up from his phone when Connor goes back to his room. He blinks at Connor. “You look nice.” 

Connor scoffs and tucks his hair behind his ear. “Yeah right.” He puts his bag on the floor and sits down in his desk chair. 

“You do!” Evan insists. “Very…serious. Professional.” 

Connor rolls his eyes and spins away from Evan. “I wear dark colors all the time.” 

Evan catches the chair and spins Connor back to look at him. “Yeah but not, like, formal black. You wear like…tired high schooler dark colors.” 

“Well that’s just a fantastic description of my style, Ev,” Connor says. “Thanks.” 

Evan grins widely. “You’re welcome.” 

Zoe appears in the doorway like a ghost, makeup bag in hand and hair half curled. “You can wear colors you know.” Connor swivels the chair so he doesn’t have to awkwardly look over his shoulder at her. “Sophie was talking about what scarf she was going to wear for her ‘pop of color’ at lunch, and she’s in chorus. She’s a soprano.” 

Connor frowns. “I thought you didn’t like Sophia.” 

Zoe shakes a curl out of her eyes. “I don’t. But you could wear holiday colors, if you wanted to not look so depressing.” 

Connor gives Zoe a once over. She’s currently wearing all black, but she could be like Sophia— she might not have added her ‘pop of color’ yet. “Holiday colors?” he asks. “Did he really mean  _ holiday _ colors?” 

She crosses her arms. “Why are you so difficult all the time?” 

“I’m not difficult.” 

“You’re kind of difficult,” Evan admits.  

Connor twists to look at Evan and gives him a hurt look. “You’re my  _ boyfriend _ , you’re supposed to be defending me.” 

Evan shrugs. “You are.” 

“Thank you, Evan,” Zoe says smugly. “I  _ know _ that Dad has a red tie if you want to borrow it from him.” 

Connor gives her a flat look. “I refuse to subscribe to the Christmas spirit.” 

Zoe shrugs. “Suit yourself. Have fun with your boring black tie.” 

“What if I wear a blue one?” He definitely has one. It’s in his closet, Cynthia bought it forever ago, back in middle school. Something about bar mitzvahs. It’s blue and white,  _ technically _ holiday colors. 

Zoe scowls. “I don’t love it either but you know that won’t fly.” 

“And I’m glad you know this is bullshit,” Connor says, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms. 

“Just put on the fucking tie,” she says. “I have to finish getting ready.” 

“Who wears ties?” Connor mutters as she walks down the hall to the bathroom. 

“A lot of people,” Evan says. “Like… I mean, your dad, for one.”  

Connor groans. “Whatever. I’ll wear the shitty black tie.” 

“Giving in so easily?” Evan asks, crossing his legs. 

Connor gets up and grabs the tie off the dresser. “I’ve probably antagonized Zoe enough on a night she’s already stressed. She’ll find a way to murder me from her seat if she sees that I’m not wearing a tie—” 

“Which she will because you are too tall,” Evan adds. 

Connor rolls his eyes and drapes the tie around his neck. “I’m not too tall.” 

“You are.” Evan stands up. He lifts his chin to make eye contact with Connor. “You are definitely too tall.” 

By far the worst thing about fake dating is the fact that at any given time, Connor  _ could _ kiss Evan, but he has no  _ reason _ to. He can’t show his hand like that and it’s killing him. 

“You’re just short,” Connor says. He tugs on both ends of the tie. “Also I have no fucking clue how to do this.” 

“I can, but not when it’s on someone else.” Evan pulls Connor’s tie off his neck and wraps it around his own. He ties it surprisingly fast and leaves it loose, pulling it off over his head and reaching up to put it over Connor’s. Evan flips up Connor’s collar and tightens the tie and Connor thinks that he probably could’ve done that himself, but this is better. 

“Thanks,” he says softly as Evan smooths down his shirt collar. 

Evan gives him a small smile. “What are fake boyfriends for?” 

Evan doesn’t move his hands from Connor’s collar and Connor doesn’t step away. They just look at each other. Evan is smiling that crooked half smile of his, eyebrows raised slightly in a way that’s kind infuriating. Connor doesn’t really know what expression he’s making himself, but it’s probably way more revealing than he wants it to be. 

And now the voice is back. The one that dares him to throw everything to the wind. To tell Evan how he actually feels. To pull out all the stops. Tell him that he loves—

“Hate to interrupt,” Zoe says from the doorway. 

Connor and Evan both take a step back from each other. No matter what, the distance is always too much. Too close, too far— Connor hates it. 

She raises her eyebrows at them. “Leaving in fifteen. Or as soon as I finish my hair. Roads look crappy and even though we’ll be an hour early, everyone and their second cousin is going to be trying to park tonight and I’d like to not walk through three inch slush for longer than I have to.” 

Connor coughs awkwardly. “Okay, sounds good.” 

“I’ll let you get back to…” Zoe gestures between Connor and Evan. “Just remember that you don’t have a door.” 

“Bye, Zoe,” he says sharply, feeling his face burn. He keeps his eyes on the doorway and away from Evan as she disappears into her own room. 

If his own family members would be kind enough to stop embarrassing him, that would be great. 

—«·»—  


“Alright,” Zoe says as they turn off their street with the heat blasting in the car. She turns her music down. “Here’s the plan.” 

Evan looks up from his hands. “The plan?”

“Yes the plan.” She flaps a hand at him. “Now shush, both of you, I have a lot of words to say.” 

Connor crosses his arms. “I didn’t say anything.” 

“Fuck off and hold Evan’s hand or something. Whatever you do.” 

Connor rolls his eyes but offers his hand to Evan. Evan gives him a nervous smile and takes it. 

“Right, so.” Zoe taps her fingers against the steering wheel. “We’ll be there at six. Technically there are going to be people sitting in the audience by then, but really people won’t start showing up until seven. I’m gonna head back to the band room and you and Connor can hang out until six thirty. I might be able to get you into a practice room if you want. Alana’s getting there around six fifteen to help with ticket sales, I can show you both where she’ll be if you want. I talked to Jared today when I saw him in the hallway and he said he was showing up at like six thirty so he can get a good seat to see Connor sing.” 

Connor makes a face. “Really?” 

Zoe shrugs. “Butts in seats. All that matters. Anyway, Connor, you’ll have to be with the chorus kids by six thirty.  _ Make sure you sign in _ . I’m serious. Mr. P will probably see you, but if you don’t sign in you might not get credit and you really don’t need to fail  _ chorus _ . The band kids have the music wing, so the chorus kids are in the presentation room under the grand staircase. If you want to hide in a practice room, you and Evan can stop by the ticket table to see Alana before you have to go, it’s on the way there.” 

“H-how do you remember all this?” Evan asks in awe. 

“Been to loads of these. Want to know the best place to sit?” 

“Uh…sure?” 

“Balcony, for sure. A lot less people sit up there and it’s easier to leave without people noticing. People in the concert sit up there while waiting to go onstage or after they’ve performed, so there’s some movement, but it’s nice. Plus it’s way easier to use your phone if you want to.” Zoe squints. “I think…if you’re facing the stage you want to sit on the right side. Like, you know how there are three sections? Sit in the right. I’d either all the way in against the wall or on the aisle seat. Against the wall you might have to step over a few people, on the aisle you might have to let people by. Also, if you sit in the very back row the least amount of people possible will see you leave.” 

Evan shoots Connor a worried look. Connor squeezes his hand. He’s committing what seems the most important to memory in case Evan asks afterward. 

“Plus if you sit in the last row it’ll be super easy to find you,” Zoe adds. “Tonight’s order is the chamber choir, chorus, jazz band, band, so I can actually sit with you for choir and I think the first song from chorus. And Connor will be up as soon as chorus is over. Then you two can bolt or whatever.” She says it flippantly, like she’s tossing the sentence over her shoulder with a shrug. 

Connor frowns. 

“Wow that’s…” Evan takes a breath. “Okay. Y-yeah, uh, thanks.”

“No problem.” Zoe reaches for the volume again. “Let me know if you need anything, you know? I’ll find a way.” 

—«·»—  


“Band kids are so loud,” Evan mutters as Zoe lets them into a practice room.

“You get used to it,” she says. She pushes the door open. “Careful, it’ll lock behind you so if you leave one of you should probably stay back.” She spins the keys around her finger. “See you in a bit, Ev.” 

Connor props open the door with his foot as Evan sits down at the piano and pulls the cover over the keys. He puts his forehead on the cover and sighs. 

Connor glances down the hall. “Hey, I gotta grab something, but I’ll literally be back in like ten seconds, okay?” 

Evan lifts his head. “Uh…sure?” 

The door shuts behind him as Connor steps back into the hall. He weaves around band kids and slips into the chorus room, where there’s even more band kids warming up. They’re like an infestation. 

He opens one of the cabinets and starts pulling out packets. It only takes him a few seconds to grab them all — okay he might be missing one or two but he’s got most of them — but it’s long enough to grab the attention of some of the musicians. He tucks the papers under his arm and hurries back to the practice room, rapping on the window in the door. 

“What’d you need to get?” Evan asks as he opens the door.

“I don’t know what I’m singing, Ev,” Connor says. He sits down at the piano and pushes the cover back up as Evan closes the door. “I mean, I know what I’m singing but I don’t know how.” 

“No one will notice,” Evan says. He sits down next to Connor. He leaves a few inches between them but isn’t as far away as he could be and Connor is going to try not to read into that too much. 

“I’m making an effort,” Connor says. He squints at the sheet music and then pulls out a different song that he knows he knows the least of. He presses down on one of the E keys and then goes down an octave. That sort of sounds right. He probably should’ve paid more attention in class. 

“Do you know piano?” Evan asks in surprise. 

“Huh?” Connor looks over at him. “Oh, uh, not really. I know where D is,” he presses the key, “because my cousin used to try to teach me and Zoe whenever we visited theirs for Christmas. She’d always say that D is in the dog house.” He presses down on the two black keys on either side of the D. “But I…did play violin sort of when I was little? I was like…the fucking worst but I can still read sheet music kind of.” 

“Cool,” Evan says softly. “I’m really bad at music.” 

Connor shrugs. “It’s easier for little kids to learn, I think. Something about brains, Alana probably knows. I barely remember anything anymore. Zoe got any of the real talent in our family.” He flips through the music and skims the lyrics, they’re probably more important than getting the notes right. 

“I didn’t know you celebrated Christmas,” Evan says after a moment. 

“We don’t.” Connor flips the music back to the front page and puts it on the shitty plastic music stand attached to the piano. “My cousins are like…half Jewish and half nothing but they celebrate Hanukkah and like…non religious Christmas. Commercial Christmas. Whatever the fuck.”  

“Huh.” 

“Unfortunately, doing Christmas Eve with them every year hasn’t taught me Christmas carols.” Connor hands Evan the rest of the sheet music. “Which is why I’m fucked right now.” 

Evan nods. He turns the page of the top packet. “Are you going to sing right now?” 

“Uh… I don’t have to?” Connor says slowly. He was planning on trying to speed read some lyrics and maybe get at least the first line or so of each song down with notes, but he doesn’t have to sing.

“I’m fine with it,” Evan says quickly. “If actually singing helps you. I don’t know how music works? Or singing, really. Like however the best way to learn songs— I mean, you’re on a time limit, that’s definitely the best way to go right now. I think.” 

“It’s going to be bad,” Connor assures him. 

Evan hits him on the arm with the sheet music. “Just sing! Learn the words! You’re stressing me out here, Con.” 

Connor makes a face and plays the notes in the first line of the one traditional Christmas carol that makes him want to die. It probably sounds really nice with whatever harmonic shit is going on when it’s sung by people who actually care and not a group of high schoolers who would rather be doing literally anything else. 

Evan keeps track of time as Connor slowly works through the pieces, singing as soft as he can because he doesn’t trust the soundproofing in these rooms and kind of hates the sound of his own voice. 

“I’m fucked,” he says as they get up to leave. He takes the sheet music from Evan as Evan grabs their phones off the piano. 

“No one will notice,” Evan repeats. “I’m sure he’ll notice you making an effort. And not saying watermelon!” 

Connor rolls his eyes. “You’re really hung up on that, aren’t you?” He opens the door and flicks off the lights once Evan has stepped into the hallway. 

“Everyone said it would work,” Evan mutters. 

They put away the sheet music — Evan is way better at organization and actually finds the right piles for each song, instead of Connor’s plan, which was just to dump it and run — and then head toward the presentation room. Alana is sitting at a table with a few parents from the music version of a PTA with, according to Zoe, just as much drama. There’s a growing line as people buy their tickets and then file into the auditorium. Connor leaves Evan with Alana, who wishes him good luck as he drums his fingers against Evan’s hand and steals a quick kiss. Then he goes and stands in the presentation room. 

It probably would’ve been in his interest to make some friends who also were in chorus, but seeing that he still hasn’t figured out normal friendship, it’s no surprise that it’s painfully boring. While he waits for the director to warm them up, he plays Solitaire on his phone, because there’s no service in this room because it truly is part of hell. 

There are too many people in the presentation room and it’s too warm. Connor pushes his sleeves up to his elbows and switches between randomly playing apps on his phone and mindlessly spinning his rings. Chorus is different then band. You don’t actually have to have talent to be in chorus, and it’s a good throwaway class for people who need to meet their arts requirement without trying. That leaves the band kids with this weird solidarity and intense inside jokes. The chorus kids are just a mash of people who care too much and care too little and it doesn’t fit together, it’s just tied together with a little bit of string and presented like a disaster. 

Yeah, Connor would call it a disaster. 

He’s tall, so he gets to stand at the top of the risers in the tenor section and look at the top of the director’s head. Something about pretending to look at an apple. The chorus’ section is probably a half an hour long max, but the lights are bright and hot and there are so many people in too small of an area. Connor’s pretty sure one of the altos almost passes out, and he can understand why. He squeezes his hands into fists and digs his nails into the palms of his hands. He tries to focus on the piano music. He fumbles over a lot of the words, but he sings more than the boy on his left, who might actually be asleep standing up, and manages to get off the risers without falling on his face. 

He somehow crashes into Zoe backstage, who squeezes his arm and whispers that he did a good job. He blinks at her and remembers how to form the words ‘good luck’ before the sea of other chorus kids pushes him away. They sweep him up the stairs and into the balcony, where he manages to pull away enough to get to the right side instead of the left, where most seem to be moving. 

Connor leans against the nearest vertical surface and drags a hand through his hair. He doesn’t know when the last time he actually breathed was and that’s kind of fucked. Explains why he feels lightheaded and overwhelmed. 

“Psst, tall emo!” Jared lifts a hand in the darkness. “Saved your ass a seat.” 

Connor pushes off of the wall. Looks like Evan opted for against the wall versus an aisle seat, but the people Connor has to step over are too distracted by whatever they’re looking at on a phone to really care that he almost trips over their legs. 

He drops down into the empty seat between Evan and Jared a seat and immediately reaches for Evan’s hand. 

“I told you you’d be fine,” Evan whispers to him. 

Connor squeezes Evan’s hand tightly. “You good?” 

Evan shrugs. He’s bouncing his legs and Connor can’t see him well in the darkness, but he doesn’t seem to be as bad as he was at the end of school. 

Jared pokes Connor’s arm. “Found Zoe.”

Connor glances from the stage to Evan. Zoe had said they could bolt— but the way she had said it, like she didn’t expect Connor to stay any longer than he was absolutely required to, kind of stung. It left a bad taste in his mouth. 

Overall, he’s been a really fucking shitty brother. 

Connor pulls his hand away from Evan’s. He works off the ring on his middle finger and holds it out to Evan. “Here,” he says softly. “Might help.” 

Evan hesitates before taking it. 

“You can just hold it and spin it if you’re afraid of it getting stuck,” Connor says. “But if you put it around your pinky, there’s no way it’ll get stuck.” 

Evan whispers thanks and Connor turns back to the stage. The jazz band is playing some sort of Christmas medley thing that’s not exactly impressive or interesting to Connor, but the rest of the audience seems to enjoy it, so whatever. When they go move onto the next song, Connor twists a little in his seat so he can lean against Evan’s arm. He doesn’t want to take Evan’s hand right now while he’s fidgeting with the ring, but the physical contact is grounding. He still feels high strung from being jostled by so many people.

“Fuck, there’s so many of them,” Jared mutters as the jazz band finishes their part and the rest of the band kids come out on stage. “Like a hivemind.” 

Connor snorts. “One way to describe them.” 

Jared looks through the notifications on his phone as the band kids set up and their director starts talking about something. Thanking the audience and parents and whatever. Jared shows Connor a bird gif and Evan finds Connor’s hand again and holds it in the dark. 

Jared and Evan both have programs, so Connor steals Evan’s and him and Jared try to guess when songs are over together, because a few of the songs seem to go on for years with pauses every so often that a few awkward people clap during. Evan rubs his thumb over Connor’s and Jared whispers, “listen to that big trumpet go” when the tuba player has a solo. 

“They’re pretty good,” Connor says when the lights come up. 

Jared laughs. “Yeah way better than the fifth graders. You should come to the all-town, man. It’s fucking wild.” 

“It’s when all the bands in the school system have one giant concert,” Evan says. “It’s really long and the middle schoolers are…uh, interesting? But when you get to the high school band it’s pretty cool.” He takes Connor’s hand and slides the ring back onto Connor’s middle finger before lacing their fingers together. “Thanks.” 

There’s a mess of people by the entrance of the auditorium, but Connor is tall and has a resting bitch face and Jared is loud and obnoxious. It doesn’t take too much effort of them to push through the crowd and get to the ticket table. 

Alana is leaning against the table and flipping through a packet of papers. There’s something about funding the music program on the front of it. 

“My Jewish bones were right,” Jared announces. 

Alana just hands him a box of programs. “Take these.” 

“Hey—” 

“Did you enjoy the concert?” Alana asks Connor. “It being your first one?” 

Connor shrugs. “The participation part was shitty, but watching it wasn’t bad.” Connor catches Zoe out of the corner of his eye and waves at her. 

She has a folder tucked under an arm and her coat half on. “Hey, guys.” 

“You had a great concert!” Alana says. She tries to give Jared another box, but he steps away. “The band sounded great!” 

“I’d give you a thumbs up,” Jared says, “but I have no hands.” 

Zoe laughs and tucks her hair behind her ear. “Thanks. Thanks for coming.” 

“Of course,” Evan says. He’s leaning into Connor’s side because there are so many people around, but it probably looks really convincing too. Two birds with one stone. “It was really nice.” 

“Really got me in the Christmas spirit,” Jared says. “Plus I got everything I’ve ever wanted in life.” 

Zoe raises her eyebrows. “Really?” 

“Yup.” Jared puts the box of programs down on the table. “I don’t know what to do with these, Lana. And I got to see Connor Murphy sing a shitty arrangement of Carol of the Bells. I’m set for life. I can die happy now.” 

Connor rolls his eyes. “The trumpets in jazz band are pretty good,” he says. “Whatever that second song was? With that one sax player— Jackie or whatever? That was probably my favorite.” 

“Oh!” Alana says. “It was like some sort of medley with lots of solos and improv! That was really cool, the soloists were great.” 

Zoe looks at Connor with a weird expression on her face before someone touches her shoulder and congratulates her on the performance. She smiles and thanks them before looking back. “Uh, thanks. Christmas songs are more fun in jazz band than in concert band.” She gestures to the stairs. “Want to get home?” 

They leave Jared and Alana to deal with the programs and squeeze through the crowd at the entrance to the school. The parking lot is a mess of slush and cars. Zoe carefully steps over snow banks in her nice black shoes and Connor can feel the dirty snow seeping into his socks. When they get to the car, Zoe blasts the heat and old pop music and Evan sits in the middle seat and rests his head against Connor’s shoulder. 

Zoe doesn’t sing as they wait in a line of beeping cars to get out of the parking lot. She yawns when they finally get out and turn right and then go straight and then turn left toward Evan’s at the second set of lights. She starts humming softly when they’re a few minutes from Evan’s.

Connor unbuckles his seatbelt before she’s parked. “Be back in a sec,” he says as he climbs out of the car after Evan. 

Zoe nods and turns up the music. 

Evan is standing at the foot of his front steps staring at the other car in his driveway. 

“You good?” Connor asks. 

Evan nods and digs his house key out of his bag. “Yeah, I just— my mom’s home. Didn’t realize it was so late.” He climbs the steps and Connor follows. 

“Is she going to be mad?” Connor asks. 

Evan unlocks the door. “N-no she’s just— uh, she’ll probably ask if we were on a date.” 

Connor blinks. 

“Which is— I mean, you might be dressed for one but…” Evan gestures to himself. “I’m not exactly dressed up.” 

“You look great, Ev,” Connor says. 

Evan laughs. “Okay, sure.” 

“Besides, it’s not a date. Don’t dates typically end with like a kiss or whatever?” Connor turns to walk down the steps when Evan grabs him by the tie. 

Evan pulls Connor down into a kiss. Connor hasn’t really let himself think too much about kissing Evan since they ‘practiced’ that first day because then it kind of takes over his mind. Quick pecks in the hallway are nothing and require no thought at all. But this kiss is longer than any kiss between two fake boyfriends has any right to be and suddenly Connor is caught up in Evan. Evan’s smile and Evan’s laugh and Evan’s eyes and his lips and everything about him is intoxicating and brilliant and Evan, Evan,  _ Evan _ —

Evan, who pulls away and whispers, “I’ll see you tomorrow” like it’s a secret that he’s passing to Connor, like it actually means something, like  _ they _ actually mean something. Evan, who steps away and disappears into his house and leaves Connor lightheaded and breathless and falling so hard there’s no way he won’t get hurt. 

Connor has to take a moment to remember that breathing is a thing and he should be doing it. Then he walks back to the car and sits in the front seat and Zoe backs out of the Hansens’ driveway while a pop song blares and Connor’s lips tingle. 

He tells Zoe he’ll be in in a minute when they get home. He sits in a cooling car and rests his head against the cold window. He unbuckles and gets out, grabbing Zoe’s purse that she accidentally left at his feet before closing the car door behind him. Zoe left the front door unlocked and once he’s closed and locked it, he leans against it and closes his eyes, resisting the urge to slide to the floor. 

“You good?” Connor opens an eye to see Zoe standing in the doorway of the kitchen. She’s holding a container of strawberry frozen yogurt and has a spoon sticking out of her mouth. 

Connor runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah. I’m good.” 

“Want some?” She holds out the fro-yo. 

He stands up straighter and nods. “That’d be great, actually.” 

—«·»—  


Connor stares at the ceiling in the dark and tries not to think about Evan. 

He’s fucked up. Big time.

* * *

 

“God fucking bless half days,” Jared says as Evan cleans out his locker. “We don’t do shit, it’s fantastic.”

Connor takes a pile of papers from Evan. He wouldn’t call Evan neat, especially since he tends to keep all his papers out of pure ‘what if I need them’. “You never have to do shit in school if you aren’t a coward,” he says. 

Evan elbows him before putting his astronomy book on the top shelf. Connor doesn’t really know how Evan’s locker became  _ their _ locker, but he thinks that it’s probably a bad idea. 

“You’ve been doing all your work in English,” Alana says. She has an armful of books that she’s borrowing from the school library to read over break. 

“I never said I wasn’t a coward,” Connor points out. 

“Thought I’d find you here,” Zoe says as she walks up to Evan’s locker. “Almost ready?” 

“Damn, you know what?” Jared asks. “We should go out to lunch.” Everyone turns to look at him. “What? It’s only eleven. We could make it a thing this year or whatever. Half days equal lunch with buds.” He nudges Evan. 

Connor gets a tight feeling in his stomach. This  _ year _ . He hasn’t thought about how long this thing with Evan will last, but as soon as it’s over— fuck. Okay, he can’t think about that. He really can’t. 

“Why would we do that?” Evan asks. 

“It’ll be kind of sad because we’re only going to do it for half a year, but,” Jared does a little shimmy, “tradition.” 

Zoe makes a face. “Please don’t.” 

“That was the saddest fucking shimmy I’ve ever seen,” Connor says. Because he doesn’t really have an emotional response to the situation right now.

“You want to try?” Jared asks. 

“No, fuck you.” 

“Where would we go?” Alana asks after a moment. “And would we need a reservation?” 

“There’s the Chinese place across the street,” Jared says. “I don’t think five people is enough to warrant a reservation.” 

Zoe looks to Connor. “I could go for Chinese,” she says with a shrug. 

“Sure.” Connor hands Evan the pile of papers when he turns away from the locker. “What about you, Ev?” 

“He’s coming,” Jared says immediately. 

Evan shakes his head. “No, it’s— I don’t have money today. I’m okay.” 

“I’ll pay.” The words are out of Connor’s mouth before he even realizes he’s thought them. Evan’s eyes widen and Connor backtracks as fast as possible. “You can pay me back later.” 

“Or me.” Zoe raises her eyebrows. “I’ve got a credit card, way easier to deal with than cash. I’ve got you, Evan.” 

“Um—” 

“Alright let’s go!” Jared shouts, interrupting Evan and slamming his locker shut. “I want some  _ food _ .” 

They decide to just walk across the street instead of drive. Jared gets to the street and then bolts as soon as there’s the tiniest bit of space. He gets honked at, but he gets across in one piece. The rest of them choose to wait for a few more cars to pass and cross the street without a near death experience. 

It’s kind of weird, sitting at a table with other people and ordering food. Connor can’t remember the last time he did this with people who weren’t his family. Or if he’s ever done it. Jared and Alana are good at holding up a conversation, even if they’re mostly talking to themselves and Zoe seems to know the right times to interject with her own comments or when to change the subject. Evan tends to wait until everyone has said their piece before adding his own, which Jared likes to interrupt every so often, but Evan doesn’t seem to mind.

It’s kind of weird, because Connor learns more about them all in one lunch than he’s learned in three years of school. He learns more about Zoe than he’s learned in  _ years _ . She likes dumplings and fried rice and really hates vegetables if they’re cooked in garlic sauce. Jared has no idea what the appropriate amount of sauce is for anything, which ends up with him just sort of drowning everything on his plate. Alana can’t use chopsticks. They all try to teach her, but it doesn’t work. Evan likes egg drop soup and beef and broccoli and he’d order Chinese takeout more often, but all the places in town either require talking on the phone or picking up in person. Or both. 

It’s kind of weird because it feels real. 

It feels real and Connor doesn’t want it to end. So when they get in the car to drive Evan home, he asks if Evan wants to come over. Evan smiles and says yes, so they sit on the floor of the living room with a random Christmas movie on the TV, because that’s all that’s on right now. Zoe sits on the couch and carefully paints her nails blue while Connor fixes his nails and then paints Evan’s toenails purple when he asks. 

Connor knows he’s just in denial, but it’s nice to pretend.

* * *

 

**From: assface / FLIPPANT SNOW TREES** ****  
**To: liars liars pants on fire  
**      MERRY CHRISTMAS YA FILTHY ANIMALS

**From: Con / dickbag** ****  
**To: liars liars pants on fire** **  
**      ill block you 

—«·»—

“Hey you want to go on a walk?” 

“ _ On a— Connor, it’s snowing out _ .” 

Connor stuffs his free hand in his pocket. “Yeah and?” 

Evan laughs. “ _ It’s below freezing out! _ ” 

“Okay, don’t kill me, but I’m already halfway to your house.” 

“ _ Halfway to my _ —” Connor smiles to himself as Evan sighs. “ _ I’ll see you in a few minutes then? _ ” 

“I’ll see you,” Connor agrees. 

Evan opens the door before Connor’s even all the way up the driveway, so he must have been watching for Connor out the window. The thought makes Connor smile. 

“Hey,” he says, squeezing past Evan into the warm house. “What’s up?” 

“Do you not know how to dress for winter?” Evan asks. “How long have you lived here?” 

“My whole life, Ev.” Connor kicks the snow off his boots and onto the welcome mat. “I won’t let Mother Nature beat me.” 

“Okay, well, take off your shoes and warm up before we go out again.” 

Connor grins at him as he pulls his boots off. “Are you mother hen-ing me right now?” 

Evan makes a face. “You’re literally going to die one of these days.” 

“We’re all going to die, one day.” 

“Shut up and let me make hot chocolate.” 

“What’s up with this?” Connor asks as he follows Evan into the kitchen. He stuffs his gloves — Evan’s gloves — into the pocket of his jacket and drapes the jacket over the chair. Then he snags a Reese’s cup from the pile of candy on the table. 

“Oh, that’s Jared’s betting candy.” Evan pulls mugs from a cabinet. “Since he’s spending today with his moms, he came over last night because he wanted to kick my ass at dreidel.” 

So that’s what the snapchats from Jared from the night before had been about. While Zoe and Connor were about an hour away at a boring not really Christmas-y Christmas Eve party and Alana was celebrating with her family, Evan and Jared had hung out. Most of the snapchats had been of the side of Evan’s head. 

Connor picks through the pile of gummy worms, a box of Peeps, gummy cheeseburgers, rainbow sprinkles, and gross chalky candy. “Aren’t you supposed to use Hanukkah gelt?” 

“He said he wasn’t going to pay for it.” Evan takes out a saucepan and the milk. “It doesn’t matter because I won.” 

Connor snorts. “Nice. You should play against Zoe. She’s scary good.”

“As good as Jared with a weighted dreidel?” 

“A what?” 

“Exactly.”  

Connor offers Evan the other Reese’s cup. “Here. How do you usually celebrate Hanukkah, anyway?” Zoe and his mom spent the other day hanging up decorations. Now there’s little plastic decorations hanging from the ceiling that look like dreidels everywhere. They also have three different spellings of Hanukkah up around the house so that’s fun. 

“Um, well my mom works a lot of nights, either like…actually working or in school,” Evan says. “Like tonight, it’s Christmas so a lot of people took it off and she picked up an extra shift. So…” He shrugs. “Just me? I uh, god this is—” He rubs a hand against his face. “Um, I put on music? Like a Hanukkah playlist on YouTube and— I have this…thing about fire when I’m home alone so I don’t actually… I set up a menorah but I don’t light it? It’s kind of…silly.” 

“I don’t think it’s silly,” Connor says after a second. “Sounds fun. Zoe and I still use menorahs we made when we were like…fuck we were like five? Zoe’s has a plastic Ariel on it. She was going for a Little Mermaid theme.” 

“I’m sure it’s beautiful.” 

“It’s a disaster and Zoe is embarrassed about it, but Mom loves it so it’s never going away.” Connor decides that continuing to eat candy probably isn’t the best idea, and pushes the pile toward the middle of the table. “Did I tell you my mom doesn’t want us to cook with oil this year?” 

Evan looks up from the hot chocolate he’s stirring. “Isn’t that…the point?” he asks slowly. 

Connor shrugs. “She’s going to make ‘cauliflower and spinach baked latkes’,” he says using air quotes. “It’ll be interesting.” 

“I mean Jared just buys jelly munchkins, because he says it’s close enough, but that’s something else.” Evan makes a face. “It sounds kind of gross. Will you let me know how they go?” 

“Yeah duh. It’s fine though, Zoe and I have a plan.” 

“A plan,” Evan echoes. 

“It involves getting up at two in the morning and making latkes as quietly as possible. Zoe has a giant ass bag of potatoes in the trunk of her car.” 

Evan laughs. “Okay, I— yeah. Yeah that’s a plan. I don’t know if it’s a good one but—” 

“It’ll be fine, Evan,” Connor promises. “We’ve made latkes before, we’re just taking the parental supervision out of the equation.” 

“ _ God _ ,” Evan mutters. “Okay, well, um, let me know if you die. I guess. Haunt me? Did I just give you permission to haunt me?” 

“You did,” Connor agrees. 

“Shit— well. Okay. Please don’t die, I don’t really want to be haunted.” 

“Not even by me?” he teases. 

Evan sticks his tongue out at Connor. ”I have enough to deal with in life without worrying about annoying ghosts.” 

“Ouch.” 

Evan brings the mugs of hot chocolate over to the table. “I’m not really sure how’d explain to my mom that my boyfriend died making secret latkes and is haunting me because I told him to tell me if he died.” 

“Shitty way to have a relationship end,” Connor says. “Death by latke doesn’t sound too bad.” 

Evan hums and sips his hot chocolate. “We don’t make them as often anymore, since Mom’s out and I’m terrible at cooking. I miss them.” 

Connor takes a long drink of his hot chocolate. “Well…we have a shit ton of potatoes…” he says slowly. 

“And?” Evan asks. 

“Zoe and I have nothing better to do.” Connor stirs his drink. “We could, like, come over and make some with you. We could invite Jared. Fuck, we could invite Alana, I don’t know if she’s ever had latkes before. Make it a thing.” 

Evan chews on his bottom lip. “Don’t pay me if we do that?” 

“Okay,” Connor says. It doesn’t feel as weird to agree to skip a payment as it usually does. He doesn’t know what that means. 

—«·»—

The snow is falling slower when Evan and Connor go out. Evan tried to get Connor to put on heavier clothing, but Connor refused. Evan on the other hand, is bundled up in a scarf and hat and looks ridiculously cute. It’s unfair. 

The snow is still fresh on the ground, light and powdery and bright white. The streets aren’t as slushy as they have been in the past few days and the air smells fresh and clean and cold. Evan and Connor’s footprints are the first ones on the sidewalks. It’s like the world has been put on pause. They pass a few cars, but everyone else is inside and quiet. 

Connor doesn’t really have a destination in mind. He just likes being with Evan, and something about the winter air helps clear his head. So naturally, his feet decide to take him toward the playground. 

“I haven’t been here in years,” Evan says as they approach the playground. It’s a slight step up from the rest of the ground, where there’s a border and wood chips that were supposed to make hard landings softer. “It’s so much smaller than I remember.” 

“We got bigger,” Connor murmurs. He brushes snow off a bar on the jungle gym. 

“Jared used to try to sit on top of the monkey bars,” Evan says. “Teachers always yelled at him for it. Said it wasn’t safe.” 

“Remember the kid who fell off the monkey bars before school in third grade?” Connor asks. “Erik? He broke his wrist. His cast was bright green.” 

Evan smiles. “People were always injured in third grade though. I remember, because at least two people were always on crutches. It was weird.” He knocks the snow off one of the swings and sits down. 

Connor stares out over the snow covered field. Everything is weirdly stil. Weirdly perfect in the way things can only be just after it’s snowed. Like a painting. Like a picture. Like something fragile and delicate that could shatter under his fingers. 

He shakes off the swing next to Evan and sits down. 

“We graduate soon,” Evan says suddenly. “I-I mean, it’s still a few months away, but…in the grand scheme of things… We graduate soon.” 

“If I make it,” Connor jokes kicking at the snow. 

“Hey,” Evan says seriously. Connor looks over to meet his eyes— his eyebrows are furrowed, he looks serious. “You’re going to make it. We— the beginning of the school year was…bad. It was really bad. But you’re almost there. You can do this.” 

Connor takes a shaky breath. “You have a lot of confidence in me.”   

Evan smiles and it looks kind of sad. Then he looks over to the plastic castle and says, “Do you remember the group of girls who used to have control of the castle?” 

They sit on the swings, slowly swinging back and forth, as the snow stops and they talk about elementary school and middle school and the years of high school when they didn’t know each other. Connor tells Evan about when him and his family used to go out to an orchard and when they’d spend sticky summer nights at drive ins, him and Zoe always falling asleep part way through the second movie. Evan tells him about how he and Jared used to be attached at the hip, about a birthday party he was invited to in third grade because everyone in the class was and they saw a movie no one understood or liked, about how his mom used to make pancakes every Sunday. 

Connor’s hands are freezing even in his gloves and he can’t feel his ears, but he wouldn’t change this for the world. 

For the first time, he thinks he really knows Evan Hansen. 

Evan drags his feet in the snow. “At that point, I kind of just…was letting things happen to me. I mean, we figured— listen, I don’t think Jared and I were very smart. The instructions were  _ literally _ on the box, but Jared— Jared was already dumping the milk and cheese in. Into the boiling water. With the pasta.” 

“Oh my god.” Connor held back a laugh. “How the  _ fuck _ —” 

Evan groans. “It was so bad, Con. The noodles were burned and he— the butter was  _ also _ put in with the water. It was really bad. And then he had the genius idea to add tabasco sauce? Like that would somehow fix…all of that.” 

“Did you eat it?” 

Evan shoots him a wide eyed look. “I’m  _ alive _ right now, aren’t I?” Connor snorts. “Jared tried some. We threw the rest out and ate goldfish for lunch and didn’t tell his moms.” 

“God, so being shitty at cooking isn’t just a you thing?” Connor jokes. 

Evan makes a face. “I’ve never been  _ that _ bad. I can usually follow directions. Jared is just a very bad influence.” 

“That’s the most accurate thing you’ve ever said about him.” Connor notices someone walking down the sidewalk toward the playground. He recognizes Zoe’s hat. “Hey, Ev,” he says, knowing there’s absolutely no reason for this, “I’m gonna kiss you now.” 

He tugs on Evan’s scarf to pull him closer and kisses him soundly. Evan’s lips are cold, but his breath is warm and he’s smiling into the kiss and it makes Connor feel like he’s floating. 

“Hey, lovebirds,” Zoe calls out. Connor pulls away to see her standing at the edge of the playground. “You know it’s like ten degrees out, right?” 

Connor rolls his eyes. Evan just laughs and kisses him again quickly before he gets down off the swing. 

“How’d you find us, anyway?” he asks. He takes Evan’s hand and lets Evan pull him off the swing and toward Zoe. 

She shrugs. “Drove around. Walked around. Figured you probably didn’t walk too far from home. But Mom and Dad would kind of like you back now.” She glances to Evan. “You coming with?” 

Evan shakes his head. “No, I’m good. I have my own things to do. I don’t want to intrude or anything.” 

“You wouldn’t be—” 

“I’m okay,” he promises, cutting her off. “I’ve got traditions to keep up.” 

“No shimmy?” Connor asks. 

Evan bumps their shoulders together. “No shimmy.” 

“Let’s get you home then,” Zoe says. “I’m freezing my  _ ass _ off, I don’t know how you two have managed to stay out for however long it’s been.” 

Connor looks to Evan and shrugs. “I don’t know. I didn’t notice how long it’d been.” 

Evan smiles before burying his face in his scarf. “Neither did I.” 

—«·»—

**From: Ev / Ha Ha Hansen** ****  
**To: liars liars pants on fire** **  
**      Happy Hanukkah!! 

**From: Con / dickbag** ****  
**To: liars liars pants on fire** **  
**      same happy hanukkah/chanukkah/chanukah/whatever other spellings are on the decorations around this house

**From: assface / FLIPPANT SNOW TREES** ****  
**To: liars liars pants on fire** **  
**      shoutout to my homies and a special hanukkah shoutout to my shalomies

**From: Con / dickbag** ****  
**To: liars liars pants on fire** **  
**      blocked

**From: assface / FLIPPANT SNOW TREES** ****  
**To: liars liars pants on fire** **  
**      thats fair

* * *

_ [art by sunlitshowers](http://sunlitshowers.tumblr.com) _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to sarah / [sunlitshowers](http://sunlitshowers.tumblr.com) for the super beautiful art? i love you i love it thank you for supporting me through this giant disaster  
> if you cant see the art on here, you can click [HERE to view it on tumblr!!!](https://heavenansen.tumblr.com/private/170257422018/tumblr_p3b1e5aARJ1wu8388) (note: its a private post, so its not rebloggable) 
> 
> sidenote: the hanukkah headcanons a. our headcanons about the murphys, hansens, and kleinmans and b. sarahs limited experiences as being part of the same ashkenazi conservative/reform jewish family. its not meant to represent all denominations or individual customs of any person or family! like any religion, judaism is complicated  
> also!! i actually got to celebrate a night of hanukkah with one of my best friends this year and i had a great time and yeah latkes are so good
> 
> (please imagine connor and zoe trying to make latkes in like a dimly lit kitchen trying to be quiet as possible and whenever the oil pops, connor shushes it. even better: imagine larry coming downstairs and they both just freeze and stare at him and he just takes a latke and says "dont tell your mother". thanks for coming to my tedtalk)
> 
> jared is quoting first home alone and then some random quote from snoop dog i found on a gifset on tumblr. the half day chinese food is a tradition a group of friends i was in in high school had but i never participated in. fuck stuco. i was in stuco. i hated stuco i was on eboard and what happened to jared and alana basically happened to me and f u c k s t u c o
> 
> by the way, that gross mac n cheese disaster evan and jared made? my brothers boy scout troop did that. but like...only a year or so ago. theyre all seniors in high school. dont ask how they fucked up so badly because i dont know
> 
> i bet you didnt think connor singing/being in chorus would come back, did you? well i didnt either because i forgot about it until i mentioned zoes christmas concert. the song zoe is singing at the beginning is by walk the moon and i might have over exaggerated what will get school cancelled, but me and my brother did in fact swerve and almost die my junior year and yes the vp was right there watching us almost crash. connor and evan are the worst and i hate them 
> 
> thank you for dealing with these terribly sized updates. i love every single one of you readers and every comment makes my day/life. almost 700 kudos?? thats madness man, thank you so much <3 
> 
> i'm on [tumblr](http:heavenansen.tumblr.com)! hopefully next update comes sooner
> 
>  
> 
> (wanna know a secret? in my original outline only the park scene was planned (and the kitchen scene but that originally took place in the park). thats right. like 12k of this chapter was filler. theres no reason for 99% of this chapter to exist but Here We Are)


	13. $528

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan hangs out with friends. Wii games, piano playing, ranting, and mac n cheese enuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its been A Time my dudes. this chapter was literally like pulling teeth, not because it was hard to write because of the content just because its hard to write in general. somehow this still ended up long as fuck and for that i am so so so sorry
> 
> to everyone who guessed a bad animated shrek-like movie, youre all wrong sorry for disappointing you. you were all so out of the ballpark that you werent even looking in the right age range or genre
> 
> anyway i wont make any promises have fun see you in a month
> 
>  **warnings:** anxiety, depression, some discussion of mental health, vague references to past suicide attempts/suicidal thoughts. let me know if other warnings should be added
> 
> enjoy!

Evan has no idea where he stands with Connor.

Connor once said they were friends. When no one was around to pretend for. But Evan still isn’t sure. Connor is good at this act and Evan knows it. He really shouldn’t, but sometimes he goes back through his and Connor’s text messages. Usually when it’s two in the morning and he can’t sleep and his brain is being terrible to him in the worst ways. He’ll scroll back as far as his phone will allow and just read through. 

It feels painfully real most of the time. But Evan lets the darkness of his room seep into his mind and color the messages and then everything feels sickly and pale. 

Sometimes when Evan can almost convince himself that Connor might actually like him platonically, let alone romantically, he’ll open to a screenshot he saved one night when this entire thing felt so real it was tantalizing. He still doesn’t know what happened that night when Connor just disappeared for a few hours. He doesn’t know what Connor and Larry fought about and he doesn’t know why Connor didn’t want Evan to say that they were together. Connor never brought it up again and Evan doesn’t know if Zoe even remembers the incident. For all Evan knows, it was another common occurrence in the life of the Murphys that faded into years of bad interactions.

Evan lets Connor’s text burn into his mind so when he closes his eyes, he can see the bright white of his screen behind his eyelids. 

‘Emphasize I’m not with you’. 

Evan doesn’t know what it means. He doesn’t know what it meant. But it makes his stomach twist and if he thinks about it too much it makes him feel slightly nauseous. It’s proof that Connor doesn’t want to spend all his time with Evan and that he doesn’t want people to think that they  _ do _ spend all their time together. 

Which they don’t. At all. 

That’s why Evan goes over Jared’s for the weekend instead of hanging out with Connor. It has nothing to do with the fact that Connor and Zoe were getting dragged off to visit a sick uncle for most of the weekend. 

Besides, it’s not a big deal or anything. Because Evan likes Jared. He genuinely does and for the first time in years, it sort of feels like Jared likes Evan too. It’s kind of a weird feeling, hanging out with Jared outside of school and  _ in _ school. The in public thing is more surprising than anything else, because freshman year, they still spent time together, Jared just didn’t really seem to want to be  _ seen  _ with Evan all that much. 

Evan doesn’t know what changed, but he’s glad that it did. Jared’s home is familiar in a way that only Evan’s own house is, a place that he’s known for years and years, that’s only changed in small ways. The layout is almost exactly the same as it was when they first became friends, most of the changes have just been furniture and wall paint. 

When Jared opens the front door, he’s wearing a large hoodie with the NASA logo on it and an old pair of glasses. Evan is about eighty percent sure that they’re the wrong prescription at this point since they’re  _ so _ old, but he’s not about to start judging how Jared lives his life. Evan kicks off his shoes and leaves them by the door. He drops his bag on the couch in the living room and pets Jared’s cat, Turtle, as Jared wanders into the kitchen. Evan squints at the show playing on the television, it looks some sort of sitcom, before he follows after Jared, Turtle meowing in protest before moving to nap in the sun. 

“What do you want?” Jared asks, pulling open the fridge. 

Evan shakes his head. “I’m… It’s not an eating day.” 

Jared grabs a box of poptarts off the top of the fridge and pulls a packet out. He tosses it at Evan, who fumbles with it and almost drops it after it hits him in the chest. “Start nibbling.” 

Evan tears open the silver foil and looks at the poptarts for a long moment before he puts them down on the counter. “It’s not a want thing,” he says, “it’s a thinking about eating makes me feel nauseous thing.” 

“I know.” Jared pulls out a tupperware filled with beans and rice. “But you still have to eat. Give it a shot, Evvy.” 

Evan stares at the back of Jared’s head as he pulls out a bowl and dumps the rice into it. Jared puts the bowl into the microwave for a minute and thirty seconds before he starts digging through the silverware drawer. Jared called Evan ‘Evvy’ when they were little, because Evan had a nickname for him and Heidi sometimes called Evan ‘Ev’, so it wasn’t special. Jared stopped using it around other people when they were in middle school, and then they didn’t exactly hang out a lot for most of high school. Certainly not in a way where Jared would use affectionate nicknames. 

Evan picks up the poptarts again. “How’s the, uh, the graphics project you were working on?” 

Jared shrugs and pulls open the microwave when there’s six seconds left. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine, I’m just done giving a shit. We’re second semester seniors, dude. The senioritis is here and it is fucking real. A big part of me is like ‘just fucking coast, man. Fuck it.’” 

“I wish that were me,” Evan mutters. 

“Sorry, dude.” Jared hisses as he pulls the hot bowl out of the microwave, half dropping it onto the counter so he can stop holding it. He shakes his hand and rubs his fingers against his pants. “ _ Fuck _ . Anyway, graphics is a fake ass class and this assignment is easy as shit.” 

Evan breaks the corner off the top poptart. “You’re too good for this?” 

“Exactly.” They watch the steam rise from Jared’s bowl for a few seconds. “I’ve been thinking,” Jared says.

“About?” 

“Your situation.” 

“That’s really ominous.” Evan breaks up the poptart some more. Breaking it doesn’t make it disappear but the smaller pieces somehow make him feel better. 

Jared shrugs. “Whatever. But like…have you ever like… Do you think what you’re doing is against school rules?” 

Evan furrows his eyebrows. “What?” 

“You know, like how you aren’t allowed to sell stuff during school hours or on school grounds or some shit without the principal’s permission?” Jared asks. “The Facto kid who graduated last year got in trouble for selling like bracelets or something for personal profit. And you’re technically exchanging money for goods and services—” 

Evan makes a face. “Oh god, don’t word it like that.” 

“—so like… Maybe you’re like cookies. Maybe this is in the handbook as a Do Not Do thing.” Jared taps the side of his bowl a few times before he picks it up. 

“Jared, what the fuck?” 

“I’m just  _ saying _ —” 

Evan snaps the second poptart in half. “How would you feel if I called you and your feelings cookies?” 

“I think it’d feel great.” 

Evan huffs. “Shut up.” 

Jared pokes at his rice for a moment. “Feelings?” he asks suddenly. 

Evan stuffs part of the poptart into his mouth.   

Jared rolls his eyes. “Chill out, you already told me you like like him.” 

“Like like?” Evan asks after he swallows. “What, are we eleven again?” 

“Have any of us truly matured?” Jared asks sagely. “‘sides, I was more of wondering if things like… _ you know _ .” 

“I  _ don’t _ know,” Evan says slowly. 

“What?” Jared says. “Don’t want to gush about Murphy? That’s new.” 

Evan elbows him. “I don’t gush. I just…” He chews on the inside of his cheek. “It’s weird,” he says. “I don’t know. I’m not really… Like he’s paying me? Right? I probably shouldn’t… Having feelings is definitely like taking advantage of him or something, right?” 

Jared narrows his eyes. “I don’t follow.” 

Evan forces a laugh. “Uh, yeah. I don’t…always follow it…either? It’s just…anxiety things. I think. But like… I’d do this anyway, because I lo— I don’t really want his money so taking it is like—” 

“Were you about to say love?” Jared interrupts. 

“No.” 

“You’re a fucking liar, Hansen.” He puffs up his cheeks before sighing. “Dude, tell him.” 

Evan almost drops his poptarts. “ _ What?! _ ” 

“Tell him,” Jared repeats. “You should, like, be honest with him and shit. Tell him how you feel.” 

“That’s literally the worst idea.” 

“I think it’s—” 

“It’s literally the worst idea.” Evan squeezes the poptart package in his hands and knows he’s crushing the gross fake pastry he’s supposed to be eating. “Jared that’s— there’s no way that would ever not be… It can’t—” 

“Shit, okay okay, stop thinking about it,” Jared interrupts. He puts down his bowl and pulls the poptarts out of Evan’s hands. “I didn’t think that you’d— whatever. Whatever, have I shown you that one bird video yet? The one of the bird kicking over an origami them?” He pulls his phone out of his back pocket. “You’ve gotta see this, Evvy, it’s like— birds. I fucking love birds.” 

“You f-fucking love birds,” Evan murmurs. 

Jared pulls up the video and presses play. They stand against the counter and go through Jared’s bird videos until Jared’s food is almost cold and Evan’s head isn’t spinning. Then Jared reheats his food and hands Evan a box of granola bars and they sit on the couch and watch a random movie on Netflix which is partially bad but mostly boring. Evan eats half a granola bar and Jared eats all of his rice, a granola bar, and the half of a bar that Evan doesn’t want. 

“Ready?” Jared asks, holding out a Wii remote to Evan. 

Evan rolls his eyes. “Really?” 

“It took us nineteen hours last time,” Jared says. He opens the Wii menu and clicks on Lego Harry Potter: Years One through Four, just like he has every time they haven’t had anything better to do on a weekend since he first got the game when they were in elementary school. Apparently, it’s possible to complete the game and extras in around twelve hours and Jared has always wanted them to finish it that fast. 

Evan thinks the last time they played was probably around freshman year. “We might be rusty.” 

“Wingardium levi-fuck you,” Jared says. “Haul  _ ass _ , Hansen, do  _ not _ be the Ron in this friendship.” 

Evan scoffs. “Who made you Harry? Besides, Ron is great.” 

“Duh, I’ve got the glasses. And if you love Ron so much,  _ play him _ .” Jared smirks at Evan. “Ready?” 

Evan leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. “If we do this in under twenty four hours, will you let us finally play years five through seven? Because this is ridiculous.” 

“Once we’re the fastest wizards in the world,” Jared says seriously. “Now move before I shoot your Lego ass to pieces.” 

—«·»—  


Jo taps the top of Evan and Jared’s heads when they’re about three hours into the game and not as far along as either of them remember being at this point back when they were freshman. 

Jared pauses the game and sits back against the cushions of the couch with a sigh. “We’re screwed,” he says to Evan. 

Jo raises an eyebrow. “Twelve hours?” 

“Probably closer to twenty three,” Jared grumbles. 

“It’s not  _ my _ fault,” Evan promises. 

Jared hits him with a pillow and gets flicked in the ear by Jo. 

“If you want to keep hogging the TV, you better go set the table,” she says. “Dinner’s almost ready and I  _ know _ you emptied the dishwasher after lunch, right?” 

Jared glances to Evan before shoving the Wii remote into Evan’s hands. “Save the game for me, I’ll be back in a sec.”

Jo crosses her arms as Jared half rolls off the couch before dashing into the kitchen. She shakes her head. “How are you, Evan?” She leans against the back of the couch. “It’s been a while since you slept over.” 

“Oh, yeah I, um…” Evan puts down the remotes and looks up at Jo. “I’m…okay?” 

“College?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “Your mom’s mentioned scholarships a few times.” 

“Right,” Evan mumbles. He looks down at his hands. “Uh, y-yeah, I’ve been…working on those.” 

“You’ll figure it out, kiddo,” Jo promises, ruffling his hair. “You always do.” 

Evan inhales sharply. “Right.” 

“Well, we’ve missed seeing you around,” she says. “You’re always welcome to invade, even if Jare isn’t here. Kate knows where he keeps his chocolate stash,” she says with a wink. 

Evan laughs. “He’d kill me.” 

“Not if he wanted to keep his car,” Jo says. “Murdering your friends absolutely gets you grounded.” 

“Does that go for me too?” Evan asks, because when they were little, all of Jo and Kate’s rules used to also apply to Evan because Jared said it was only fair. Evan didn’t think that was true, because Jo and Kate were  _ Jared’s _ moms, not his, but when they were together, punishments always ended up being doled out equally, whether it was Jared’s moms or Evan’s doing the punishing. Usually Jared was the one getting in trouble, but Evan still got busted by Kate a few times. 

“Are you planning on killing my son?” Jo asks. She raises her eyebrows. 

“Not right now,” Evan promises. 

“That’s good, I’d feel bad about feeding you if you were,” she says with a laugh. She looks toward the kitchen. “How much of the dishwasher do you think is put away?” 

“Um…maybe the top of it?” Evan says. “Should I go help him?” 

Jo waves away his offer. “They’re his chores, he should do them himself, but you’re a sweetheart to offer. Is that how Jared would get the kitchen clean so fast when he was little?” 

“He paid me in Pokemon cards,” Evan says honestly. 

Jo shakes her head. “That boy. Come on, you can help me set the table while Jared pretends that the dishwasher isn’t still in the process of being emptied.” 

Evan thinks that the weirdest part about spending more time with Jared again is how natural it feels. Even with three years of shit, sitting down with the Kleinmans for dinner feels normal. It’s comfortable. He spent so much time here when he was little, especially when his mom was dealing with the divorce and beginning to work more hours, that it just feels like an extension of his home. Dinner feels familiar, the conversation falls into patterns that Evan remembers from middle school, and even the silverware is the same. 

When Evan was growing up, the Kleinmans felt like family. He remembers Kate once lied about being his aunt to dismiss him from school when he was sick and his mom couldn’t get out of work.

Evan stares up at Jared’s ceiling in the darkness later that night, when Kate had finally kicked them off of the Wii and told them that the Wizarding World could be saved in the morning. Even Jared’s room is the same as it was back in middle school. It’s the same from his astronaut phase, before he got more into computers and coding. He convinced his moms to redecorate his room and in a weekend, the walls were painted black and the ceiling was dotted with stars and there was even a sticker of the earth put up on one of the bigger walls. 

Evan doesn’t really know how he thought senior year was going to go. Poorly, probably. And that’s not to say it’s been great, because it really hasn’t been, but it’s been unexpected. In basically every way possible. 

He looks over at Jared’s arm, which is hanging off his bed. Evan is sleeping on the same air mattress he’s always used, is using the same blankets, is under the same starry ceiling. 

It’s kind of weird, he thinks, how when everything seems painfully constant, everything can change.

* * *

 

“Thank fucking god for the semester change,” Jared says, putting his lunch tray next to Evan’s. “I had shitty lunches for too long.” 

Evan rolls his eyes, but pushes his lunch tray toward Jared. Jared takes the pudding and puts a roll on Evan’s tray before handing it back. 

“Oh, shit.” Jared points over Evan’s shoulder. Evan turns to see Alana pulling Connor through a crowd of students toward their table. “It’s the invasion of the nerds.” 

“You’re hilarious,” Evan says flatly. 

“I try.” 

“Have you ever seen the animated Beowulf?” Alana asks. She sits down and puts her bag on the table and stares intently at Jared. 

“The what?” Jared asks. 

“Hey,” Connor says. He taps on the top of Evan’s head. 

Evan looks up at him with a smile. “Hi.” 

Connor bends down and presses a kiss to Evan’s nose. Evan bites back a smile as he turns pink. The only person they  _ really _ have to fool right now is Alana, and Alana has never visibly doubted them. Evan will hold onto tiny moments like this when this ends and he has to pretend Connor means nothing to him. 

“We’re watching it in lit,” Alana says. Evan tries to drag his attention away from Connor and back to the conversation. “Mr. Adams is out for a few days because his daughter is really sick, so he gave it to the sub for us to watch—” 

“Because Antonio found it for three fucking dollars and bought it for Adams for Christmas,” Connor adds as he sits down next to Evan. “Kissup.”

“And it’s—” Alana leans back. She glances to Connor. “Well it’s…a  _ lot _ .” 

Connor steals one of the green beans from the vegetable pile on Evan’s tray. “It’s Shrek.” He makes a face as he eats the green bean. “Gross.”

“Shrek?” Evan asks. 

Alana nods and Connor shrugs. 

“It’s the animation,” she says. “Very um…Shrek-like. We had to stop to put on subtitles. It was…sometimes hard to understand. Though frankly, I didn’t actually  _ want _ to understand some of the things being said. It’s just…a lot. Of things.” 

“There’s no way you can convince me that this entire movie isn’t just deleted scenes from Shrek,” Connor says. “There’s no way.” 

Alana makes a face. “ _ I _ wanted to watch Macbeth, but we aren’t done reading it yet.” 

Jared whistles lowly. “That’s a lot of murder. Lots of death.”

“Speaking of murder,” Alana says. 

Connor raises his eyebrows. “That’s fucking ominous coming from you.” 

Alana pulls her lunch box out of her backpack. “Jared. The council.” 

Jared wrinkles his nose. “The fuck did they do now?” 

“The council,” Connor mutters as Alana launches into a rant. “It’s like we’re in fucking Lord of the Rings or something.” 

“ _ What?! _ ” Jared hisses. 

“I  _ know _ ,” Alana says. She opens her Thermos. “It’s ridiculous, I don’t know what they were thinking. But sumo wrestling?” She starts talking about dates that Evan doesn’t recognize and events he probably  _ should _ . She eats between sentences and whenever Jared says something back. And Jared has a  _ lot _ to say. Mostly swear words. Alana just nods and agrees with him.

Evan leans against Connor’s side. Almost automatically, Connor wraps an arm around Evan’s shoulders and pulls him close. 

“You okay?” Connor murmurs. 

Evan nods. For once, he thinks he really is. At this exact moment in time, he feels alright. He just likes being near Connor. Connor makes him feel comfortable and safe. 

He can disguise this all as fake for now. 

Jared makes a face at them. “Get a room.” 

Alana glares at him as Connor flips him off. 

“Am I wrong?” Jared asks her. 

Alana purses her lips. “Did you see Emily and Patrick in the hall outside calculus yesterday?” 

Jared gags. “Yeah, you’re right.  _ Everyone _ needs to get a room. That was really fun, really great. It was like they were trying to  _ swallow _ each other.” 

Connor shifts. “TMI, Kleinman.” 

“Hey,  _ I _ wasn’t the one with my tongue down someone’s throat in the middle of the hallway,” Jared says defensively. “Patrick was getting handsy.” 

Evan frowns. “How long were you watching?” 

Connor snorts. 

Alana grimaces. “We were waiting for the substitute to unlock the room.” 

“Doesn’t mean you had to watch,” Connor points out.

“Creepy,” Evan mumbles. 

“What’s creepy?” Zoe asks, dropping a bag on the floor and taking a seat next to Alana. “I just saw you when I was throwing things away. I’m over there.” She gestures toward a back corner of the cafeteria, where the band kids have had tables claimed for as long as Evan can remember. 

“Jared,” Connor answers. “Jared is creepy.” 

Jared crosses his arms. “I only put up with you because you’re dating my best friend.” 

“Put up with me,” Connor grumbles.

“Best friend,” Evan echoes. 

“We have a blood pact, Evan,” Jared says seriously. 

Zoe squints at them. “I…think I’m good. Don’t need to know anymore about that.” She turns to Connor. “I have an audition today, I’m keeping the car and staying late. Gonna have to find your own way home.”  

Connor rolls his eyes. “Okay.” He leans heavily against Evan and closes his eyes. “I’ll go get high behind McDonald’s.” 

“Ha ha.” 

“You can come over mine,” Evan says. “My mom is working.” He very pointedly does not look anywhere near Jared. 

“You sure?” Connor asks. 

“Yeah, of course.” Evan finds Connor’s hand under the table and laces their fingers together. “My mom won’t mind.” 

“Use protection,” Jared says. Evan glares at him and Jared looks way too happy with himself. 

“Okay, gross,” Zoe says, scooping her bag up off the floor. “Way too gross, I didn’t want or need to hear that, I don’t want to think about anything related to that, and I am leaving. Goodbye.” 

Connor throws Evan’s empty milk carton at Jared as Zoe walks away. 

Jared leans out of the way and it goes flying over his shoulder. “I just want you two to practice safe sex.” 

“ _ Jared _ ,” Alana warns. 

Jared holds up his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine! But Evan gave me the opening.” 

“Barely,” Evan says. “It wasn’t even that good.” 

“Did I  _ ask _ for critiques?” 

“Your face sure does,” Connor says, stealing another green bean from Evan despite the disgusted face he made before. 

Jared scowls. “I hate this family.” 

—«·»—  


“Do you think we need funding?” Alana asks. 

Evan blinks. “Uh…” 

“I know you just got out of a test,” she says, waving a hand as she loops their arms together and drags him down the hallway. “So I can understand if you’re a bit confused or out of it, I know that personally after a particularly difficult test I’ve mentally exhausted myself. I tend to take naps after AP exams. But I was just in calculus and since we spent the day going over homework because, well frankly, Riemann sums are not only sometimes relatively confusing but also incredibly tedious—” 

“What?” 

“But since we were just going over homework and I spent the weekend figuring out what we were learning from the textbook and online resources so I could do it properly, I had some time to think about the club. And I was wondering if we think we need funding.” 

“Oh.” Evan slows his walk and forces Alana to slow down as well. She likes to walk at almost speed walking speeds, getting where she needs to go as fast as possible, and Evan would like to slow down ad process all the words that were just said. “Um… I guess— I mean if it’s…going to be more of a…just like a talking club? Then no? But, um, if we were — they were, I guess, since we’re graduating — to bring in outside resources…yes?” 

Alana stops walking completely. “Hm…” Evan watches her carefully. “If the club were to ask for funding, I’d personally rather do it myself for two reasons. For one, having asked for it this year makes it much more likely that there would be funding for next, because they can take that into account at the beginning of the school year. The second reason is that I’m in good standing with the principal as well as the rest of the administration.” 

Evan nods. He’s not surprised. She  _ is  _ their valedictorian and runs not only the Student Council but a lot of the rest of student government. She’s always organized and knows what needs to be done, she probably makes the principal’s job easier.

“This school isn’t very good about mental health and students that are mentally ill,” she says. She starts walking again and pulls Evan toward his locker. 

“That’s…one way to put it,” he admits. 

“To be frank,” Alana says, “they aren’t very good about any sort of disabilities either.” She lets go of Evan’s arm and stops them in front of his locker. “I remember a senior in my AP Physics class last year had problems with her calculus teacher when it came to testing because she had a vision problem that required more than just glasses. It was incredibly messy, considering all her teacher had to do was print out a test in a larger font and give her adequate quiet and time.” 

“I…haven’t really, uh, paid attention to other people’s problems,” Evan admits. He spins his lock to reset it. “I didn’t really realize there were problems? I didn’t… I mean, my mom has always…dealt with them.” He wonders how long she’s spent in administrative offices talking about his many absences when she needed to be working or in class.        

“Someone is going to sue this school district one day,” Alana muses. 

“ _ What _ ?” Evan asks, dropping his lock against the locker. 

“Someone is going to sue them,” she repeats. “And they’ll deserve it.” 

“Who are we suing?” Connor asks. “And why? Actually, it doesn’t matter, I’m in.” 

“The school,” Alana says, rocking back on her heels. “And what haven’t they done?” 

“What  _ have _ they done is also accurate,” Connor says. “Fucking— I’m in. Hell yeah. Fuck this place.” 

Evan shakes his head and pulls open his lock. “What are we currently suing them over? Shitty c-cafeteria food?” 

“Yes.” Connor grabs his astronomy book off Evan’s top shelf. “How are we not dead?”

“We are.” Jared holds out a fist to Alana, who looks at it for a moment before bumping it. “We’re all dead, nothing is real and reality is a lie.” 

“Man why don’t people invite you to parties more?” Connor deadpans. 

Evan elbows him in the side. 

Jared raises his eyebrows. “And to think I was going to offer you two a ride to Evan’s. Offer retracted.” 

“You didn’t offer it,” Alana says.

“Offer preemptively retracted.” 

Connor glances to the far wall, like he can somehow see through it to the outside. “It’s not  _ that _ cold out. And not too long of a walk to Evan’s.” 

Alana turns to Jared with a hard expression. 

“Hey, want a drive?” Jared asks loudly. 

Alana shoots Evan a quick smile. “I have to go do tutoring, but I’ll talk to you all later?” 

Connor shuts the locker. “Sure thing.” 

“I’ll text you about the financial stuff, Evan,” she says before turning on her heel. 

“S-sounds good.” Evan locks his locker. “Are you sure about driving us?” he asks Jared. 

Jared shrugs. “Mom wants me to steal a recipe from Heidi. This is easier.” 

“Which one?” Evan asks. One of their kitchen cabinets is a mess of cookbooks and boxes full of printed out recipes and note cards with fading instructions. He’s not actually sure he’d be able to find anything in it, even though his mom seems to know how the nonexistent system works. 

“Something about chickpeas,” Jared says, pulling his keys out of his pocket. 

“That’s helpful,” Connor mutters. 

“And I think we’ve stood around long enough for the parking lot to no longer be a _ complete _ murder zone, so let’s go before this places makes me break out in hives.” Jared tosses his keys from one hand to another. “I cannot wait to fucking graduate.” 

—«·»—  


Jared presses the doorbell a few times while Evan digs his house key out of his backpack. 

“No one’s home, dumbass,” Connor says, leaning against the side of the house. 

Jared looks him dead in the eye and presses it again.

Evan pushes Jared’s hands away. “You’re going to break it. Let’s just go look for your recipe so you can go home.” 

“Not sticking around?” Connor asks as Evan opens the front door. He pulls off his boots and tosses them onto the mat. 

“Nah, I’ve got an essay to write and quality time to spend with Turtle.” Jared disappears down the hall. “I’m raiding your fridge too.” 

Evan sighs and takes off his shoes. “He’s going to owe me.” 

“Who’s Turtle?” Connor asks as they walk into the kitchen. 

“My cat.” Jared pulls out a loaf of bread. 

“Your cat is named Turtle?” 

“Yeah, she’s a tortoiseshell and I love her.” Jared folds a piece of bread in half and sticks it in his mouth before he opens the cabinet filled with recipe books. 

“Tortoises aren’t the same as turtles,” Connor says, reaching for a piece of bread. 

Jared takes the bread out of his mouth. “Are you judging eleven year old me?”

“Duh, who else is going to do it?” 

“Me, probably,” Evan says. He reaches around Jared and grabs a box full of recipe cards. He puts it on the counter and starts flipping through it. “Any idea what it is other than ‘chickpea’?”

“Nah.” Jared grabs a cookbook and starts flipping through it. “Probably will know it when I see it.” 

“Fuck.” Connor stands up. “Then I’m going to have to help, huh? This shit’s going to take ten years.” 

Evan puts the TV on in the living room in the background, just so there’s noise, and they spread books and recipes out over the table and counter. Whenever a recipe has chickpeas in it, Jared looks it over and either decides it’s not it or he’s not sure. Every once in a while, Connor will shoot Evan a bored look and Evan will just shrug. 

“Found it!” Jared shouts suddenly. 

“Thank fuck,” Connor says, immediately shoving the cookbooks away from himself. 

Evan catches a pile of papers before they fall to the floor. “What is it?” 

“Moroccan Butternut Squash and Chickpea Stew,” Jared reads. “Hell yeah, now Mom can stop bugging me about this.” 

“Are you going to help put these away?” Evan asks as Jared moves to leave the kitchen. 

Jared looks back at him before he looks around the kitchen. “Oh. Right.” 

“Is there any like…order to this?” Connor asks as they stuff recipes and books back into the cabinet. 

“Uh… If there is, I don’t know it,” Evan admits. 

“Cool.” Jared closes the cabinets. “Now I’m going to leave with this,” he holds up the recipe, “and leave you two to do whatever you do when you aren’t faking shit for the rest of us.” 

Evan and Connor exchange a glance. Evan swallows. 

“Did I put my keys down?” Jared asks, reaching into his pockets. 

“I know where they are,” Evan says quickly. “I’ll grab them.” He steps into the living room and takes a deep breath before grabbing Jared’s keys off the coffee table and turning off the TV. “Here you go,” he says as he walks back into the kitchen, throwing the keys at Jared. 

Jared catches them easily. “Sweet. See you two tomorrow.” 

“I’m going to lock the door behind him,” Evan murmurs, following him as Connor leans against the countertop. 

Connor nods. “Yeah, sure.” 

“You good?” Jared whispers as he opens the front door. 

“Why are you like this?” Evan asks. 

“Like what?” 

“We both…” Evan glances over his shoulder and then pulls Jared outside and closes the door behind them. “We both  _ know _ it’s not real, you don’t have to keep reminding me.” 

Jared rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry.” 

Evan drags a hand down his face. “It’s— you’re fine. It’s not… It’s whatever.” 

“Are you sure you’re good?” Jared asks. “Cause I can stay. Or make up some bullshit excuse to get Connor to go away.” 

Evan shifts. “You know that’s not the problem here.” 

“Yeah yeah,” Jared mutters. “Are you sure that you don’t want to…you know?” 

“No, no, definitely not. I don’t— Jare, I don’t even know what we  _ are _ ?” 

Jared furrows his eyebrows. “What does that, like…mean?” 

“I-I don’t know what we are!” Evan gestures with his hands. “We aren’t friends, we aren’t dating, we’re just— we’re awful! We’re something awful!” 

Jared puts a hand on Evan’s shoulder. “First of all, chill out for a sec. Second…awful? I mean— whatever you are, it makes you both happy? I mean, at least it sure seems to. Is that really  _ awful _ ?” 

“Yes,” Evan insists. And he doesn’t know how Jared doesn’t  _ get it _ , how bad all of this really is.   

“Dude,” Jared says seriously. He starts to say something, but shakes his head and sighs. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Text me if you need an out or something, I don’t know. I’ll be there.”

Evan nods. He wrings his hands and watches Jared walk down the pathway for a moment before going back inside and locking the door. 

“All good?” Connor asks. 

“Yeah, just had a question for his moms,” Evan lies.

“Zoe texted me,” Connor says. “Said she’ll swing by on her way home from auditions, but she doesn’t know when they’ll end.” 

“That’s fine by me.” Evan passes Connor and goes into the living room. “Anything you…really want to do?”

“Sleep?” Connor mutters, flopping onto the couch. “I don’t know.” 

“If you want to sleep, you can just sleep in my bed,” Evan says. The words process once they leave his mouth. “I mean—” Connor looks up at him. “You’ve done it before,” he adds quickly. This isn’t weird unless he makes it weird, right?

“You sure?” Connor asks, because yes, this is weird. It’s definitely weird, because Evan is now realizing they’ve never  _ purposefully _ slept in each other’s bed. It’s always been an  _ accident _ and this is officially really weird.

“Of course I’m sure, why wouldn’t I be sure?” 

Connor stands up. “Then I think I’m actually going to take you up on that offer,” he says. He walks past Evan toward the stairs. “Because, dude, I’m way too tall for couches.” 

Connor falls onto Evan’s bed as soon as they get up to his bedroom. Evan walks over to the window and grabs the small watering can under it. 

“I’ll be right back,” he says. 

“Sure,” Connor says, voice muffled in the pillows. He props himself up on his elbows. “Actually, take this. Just like…wake me up when Zoe texts me?” He holds his phone out to Evan. 

Evan takes it and slides it into his pocket. “Y-yeah, sure. Sleep well?” 

Connor lays back down. “Fingers crossed.” 

Evan fills up his watering can in the bathroom sink and when he walks back into his bedroom, Connor is already asleep and hugging a pillow. Evan’s stomach sinks a little when he realizes how  _ tired _ Connor must’ve been all day, but Evan didn’t notice at all. He focuses on watering his plants and tries not to think about Connor feeling like he needs to hide how he feels. 

Evan sits at his desk and puts Connor’s phone next to his own. He works on some homework and texts Alana, who’s trying to finalize some of the details for the still unnamed club. She’s decided that funding, even if it’s very little, is a good idea, but wants to go to the principal with as much completed as possible. And that includes the name. She makes and shares a document with Evan and Evan watches as she adds various name options to the list. 

Connor’s been asleep for almost two hours when his phone buzzes. Evan checks the screen. 

**From: Z** **  
** **To: C** **  
**      On my way to Evan’s and if you say a word about my coping music I WILL throw you out of a moving car   
     Specifically MY moving car

Evan puts the phone down and spins to face the bed. “Hey, Connor,” he says. He reaches out and pokes Connor’s foot.   
Connor inhales sharply and sits up with a jerk. “I’m awake!” 

Evan snorts. 

Connor glares at him. “ _ Jesus _ , Ev.” He throws a pillow at Evan. “What the fuck, man?” 

“Zoe’s on her way.” Evan holds up Connor’s phone. “You told me to wake you up.” 

Connor lifts up his hands. “Toss it.” Evan throws him his phone and Connor catches it and puffs up his cheeks as he reads the texts. “Cool,” he says, and then flops back onto the pillows. 

“Gonna get up?” Evan asks. 

“Eventually,” Connor promises. After a few minutes, his phone buzzes again. Connor sighs. “Okay, it’s eventually.” He sits up with a groan. “You staying here or coming down?” 

“I’ll come down,” Evan says, pushing away from his desk. He follows Connor down the stairs and unlocks the door as Connor grabs his backpack and puts on his boots. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Evan says, opening the door. 

Connor steps outside and glances to Zoe’s car before turning back to look at Evan. He cups Evan’s face in his hands and kisses him. Evan squeezes the doorknob in his hand and leans into the kiss. He knows it can’t last forever, but he pretends that it could until Zoe honks at them and Connor pulls away, breathing “See you,” only an inch away from Evan. He hurries down the path, yelling at Zoe to shut up, and Evan leans against the door and watches as his heart beats in his ears. 

He tries not to think about it too much, but he can still feel Connor’s lips against his. 

* * *

Evan is pulling a sweatshirt on when his phone starts vibrating. Enough that he thinks it might be a phone call, if it is he’s already planning on ignoring it until it goes to voicemail, but when he glances to the screen, he sees it lit up with new messages from Connor.

**From: Con** **  
** **To: Ev** **  
**      hye en    
     ev   
     fuck it se arly as shit dude   
     whyt eh fuck dose the govenerment do t hsi to us   
     prented any fo thsi is spelt right what teh fuck    
     shit   
     anyway  **  
**      not going to school today    
     zs still gonna pick you up im making her bring yuo a bagel 

Evan rolls his eyes. 

**From: Ev** **  
** **To: Con** **  
**      Stop trying to feed me    
     But ok thanks f or lettin gme know    
     Sick or mhd? 

**From: Con** **  
** **To: Ev** **  
**      the fuck does mhd mean    
     im not awaek im going back to sleep as soon as we stop having htis conversation 

**From: Ev** **  
** **To: Con** **  
**      Mental health day    
     My mom lets me take them but missing school usually makes it worse so usally I jsut dont   
     But when I had to call her to pick me up in like middle school I coudl just say mhd over the phone in stead of explaining the situation or amything whihc I never wnated to do because the nurse was always full 

**From: Con** **  
** **To: Ev** **  
**      true middle schoolers are always in tehre f aking sotmach aches  rosmthing    
     i m pasisng the fuck out but yeah    
     mhd 

**From: Ev** **  
** **To: Con** **  
**      Ok s leep well and text me wehn you wake up??? 

**From: Con** **  
** **To: Ev** **  
**      yeah s ure night lo

Evan is about to lock his phone and put it away when a text from Zoe pops up on the top of my screen. 

**From: Zoe!! ☆** **  
** **To: EH** **  
**      On my way!! No Connor today guess what that means? 

Evan frowns at the text. He kind of just assumed it would be exactly the same as always, just a little more awkward because Evan doesn’t really know if him and Zoe are anything close to friends yet. He  _ is _ dating her brother that she doesn’t get along with really. Fake dating. Whatever. 

**From: EH** **  
** **To: Zoe!! ☆** **  
**      What does ti mean ?? 

**From: Zoe!! ☆** **  
** **To: EH**   
     No one will complain about my music choices (which are GREAT fuck you Connor) AND you get shotgun   
     I’ll be there in like 10 be ready for music from the 80s!

Exactly nine minutes later, Evan hears a car honk in the driveway. He grabs his backpack and locks the front door after him, almost reaching for the back door of the car before opening the passenger’s side. 

“You’re early,” he says as he slides into the front seat. 

“What’s that?” Zoe asks. She reaches for the volume and turns up the music. “I can’t hear you over the music.” 

Evan smiles and buckles in. 

Zoe turns the volume down to a more normal level. “Here,” she says, dumping a paper bag in Evan’s lap. “Connor said to give that to you and he swears it isn’t drugs.” 

Evan shakes his head. “Definitely n-not drugs. Thanks.” He unzips his bag and stuffs the paper bag inside. “You have rehearsal after school, right?” 

Zoe nods. “As always. Jazz won’t swing itself. If you want to hang around and do nothing for a while, I can drive you home afterward.” 

“Would you…be okay with driving me to  _ your _ home?” Evan asks slowly. 

“Yeah sure,” Zoe says with a shrug. She swerves slightly to avoid a large pothole. “Can’t say Connor will be fun to be around, and he might just be asleep, but somehow I doubt you care. And if all else fails, you’re welcome to just chill out with me.” 

Evan glances over to her. “R-really?” 

“Yeah, sure.” She looks away from the road and flashes him a smile. “I know I’m not my brother, but I think I’m pretty fun sometimes.”

“Thanks,” Evan says softly. 

Zoe raises her eyebrows before looking straight ahead again. “For teasing you about Connor?” 

“For, um, offering to…hang out with me?” 

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” Zoe asks. 

“We are,” Evan says quickly even though he wouldn’t even let his brain consider it before this exact moment in time. “I’m just… I d-don’t-- uh… Thank you?” he says weakly. 

Zoe laughs. “You’re welcome,” she says. “Besides, I’d feel bad if you came over just to immediately leave because your boyfriend decided to turn nocturnal.” 

“Turn nocturnal?” Evan asks. 

Zoe hums. “The first thing to get fucked is always Connor’s sleep schedule. I’m a pretty light sleeper most of the time, he woke me up around like four this morning when he was moving around his room.” She taps her fingers against the wheel. “I don’t know… I wouldn’t say I’m  _ good _ at knowing when things with him are turning bad, but there are signs that he’s struggling. I mean,” she shrugs a shoulder, “ _ sometimes _ . Sometimes there are signs and sometimes he just snaps. But he’s giving himself a break today so that should…help.”  

Evan looks down at his hands. “Oh. I haven’t— I didn’t really…pick up? On…” 

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Zoe says softly. “I…don’t think he wanted you to. It’s stuff you’d only notice if you were around him twenty four seven and have known him for years. He seems happier with you, if that helps.” 

It doesn’t. It absolutely does not. It makes Evan feel a little bit sick, actually. 

Zoe changes the song. “I  _ can _ tell you this. Connor has a soft spot for pop music, and I’m  _ going  _ to prove it. I’m like…eighty percent sure.” 

Evan smiles and looks out the window as Zoe starts singing along to Cyndi Lauper.

When they get to school, Evan goes up to his locker, which feels weird to do without Connor around. He puts his books away and pulls the paper bag out of his backpack. He pulls out a bagel and crumples up the bag when he feels something inside it. Evan uncrumples the bag with a frown and tips it upside down. One of Connor’s silver rings falls into his hand. It’s in a plastic bag with a sticky note. Evan puts the paper bag in the trash and opens the plastic bag. The sticky note says ‘in case you need it’ in Connor’s scrawling handwriting. 

Evan smiles to himself and carefully slips the ring onto his pointer finger after he makes sure he can easily remove it. It’s nice. He doesn’t let him think about it beyond that. It’s nice. 

—«·»—  


“Evan!” Alana says in surprise when he sits down across from her in the library. “I didn’t realize you were still here.” 

“Zoe’s my ride.” He drops his backpack on the ground. “And I, uh, saw you in here so…thought I’d say hi?” 

She grins. “Hi. How was your day?” 

“Fine. Yours?” he asks, handing the conversation over to her. Evan is pretty sure Alana has a lot to say, and he’s more than happy to let her say it right now. 

“Long,” she admits. “English was surprisingly boring without Connor, even though all we did was finish the movie. I didn’t realize how much commentary he made yesterday until he wasn’t making it. I’m assuming he’s sick?”

Evan nods. “Just a bug, I think. He should be back tomorrow.” He figures Connor will be able to roll with that relatively simple lie. 

“Well he’s welcome to ask me if he wants to know how the movie was.” Alana pulls a few pages out of a binder. “I’m not sure if he cares, since he was annoyed at the movie for not staying more true to the source material, but you probably know better than I do.” 

Evan blinks. “Uh…not really? I didn’t realize that Connor, um, cared that much about if movies were…accurate?”

Alana hums. “I’m not sure if that’s how he feels about all adaptations, but it’s certainly how he felt about this one. He missed a few truly uncomfortable scenes, so that’s good. And a lot of gore.” 

“Great,” Evan says. 

“Calculus was fine, we did more with Riemann sums and we have a test on Friday, which most of the class is freaking out about. I would be, but he always lets us correct for half credit, which is good because I think the raw average on the last test was around a forty seven.” 

“Holy shit,” Evan whispers. 

Alana nods as she takes out a highlighter and highlights a few lines in her planner. “Calculus is a difficult class. I know one person got a fourteen on the last test. It was actually impressive.” 

“I don’t get math,” Evan says. 

“It can be complicated. Are you doing alright in your math class right now? If not, I might be able to help you out. Jared or I could, that is. He’s pretty good at math, he’s keeping up in calc and that says a lot.” 

“I’m passing,” Evan says. Alana looks up from her planner at him with a flat expression. “I’ve got a B minus,” he clarifies. “So I think…I’m okay?” 

She nods, seemingly satisfied, and goes back to making marks in her planner. “Let me know, though. I know around finals and midterms, things get tough, and I could always use a distraction from my own studying. Or if you have a test or quiz coming up-- just send me a text, I can always find time if you need assistance.” 

“Um…cool, thanks. I’ll…do that.” Evan spins Connor’s ring with his thumb. “Anything else happen today? Did you and Jared sort out the problem with the Student Council?” 

Alana pushes her planner away from her and folds her hands on the table. “Do you have time?” 

Evan glances to the clock. “Yeah?” 

“Good.” 

—«·»—  


Zoe tosses Evan the car keys as they walk through the parking lot. “Start it up while I put my instruments away, kay?” 

“Uh, yeah sure,” Evan says. He’s turned on his mom’s car before, but there’s still something kind of anxiety inducing about it. He doesn’t like driving, so it’s probably just a psychological thing or something. Something Dr. Sherman will probably want to talk about one of these days. He slides into the passenger side and puts the keys in the ignition, turning them until the engine starts. Then he sits back in his seat, takes a breath, and buckles in as the trunk closes. 

“Thank you,” Zoe sing songs as she gets into the driver’s side. She plugs in her phone and clicks through until she finds a playlist. A song that Evan can’t name but swears he’s heard before starts to play from the speakers as she backs out of the parking space. 

“My house?” she asks. 

“Your house,” Evan confirms. 

They drive in relative quiet, Zoe humming along to the songs and skipping them every so often. Evan knows it only takes about ten minutes to get from school to the Murphy’s, but for some reason, time feels sort of weird right now. Jello-y. 

Zoe pulls into the driveway and Evan offers to help her with her instruments, but she waves it off and insists she’s fine. Evan still holds her saxophone as she unlocks the door and toes off her shoes. 

“I’m home and I brought Evan,” she calls out, softer than her usual yell. 

Evan puts Zoe’s saxophone down and closes the door behind him before taking off his shoes. 

Larry steps out of the hallway with his cell phone pressed against his shoulder to cover the microphone. “Connor’s asleep,” he says. “If that’s what Evan’s here for.” 

“No, we’re going to go hang out,” Zoe says. She drops her car keys into a bowl filled with other keys, a wallet, and lots of loose change. “I had something I wanted to show Evan, anyway.” 

Larry nods and looks like he’s going to say something else, when he frowns and presses his phone to his ear. “Charlotte?” he asks, turning back down the hallway. “I’m here. What were you saying?” 

“Your dad works from home?” Evan asks, handing Zoe her saxophone.

“Just today,” she says. She leads Evan up the stairs. “My mom’s thinking about going back to work, since Connor and I are almost done with school, so she’s out today. Since Connor stayed home, Dad called out of the office and has probably been fending off calls all day.” 

“Huh.” Evan doesn’t let himself think too much about why they wouldn’t leave Connor at home alone. “What does your mom do? Or…what…did she do?” 

“She was a real estate agent, I think,” Zoe says. She pushes open her door with her foot. She puts her saxophone and guitar down on the floor before squeezing past Evan into the hallway again. She slowly opens Connor’s door and peaks inside. “Yup,” she says, closing it again, “knocked out.” 

Evan nods. “Cool.” He looks around Zoe’s room. He’s never actually spent time in here before. Her walls are yellow and she has a string of lights hung up on them in one corner. It’s nice, cozy. 

He remembers Connor texting him the first night of Hanukkah to let him know that he finally got his door back. How it feels like he finally had privacy in his home again. 

Zoe drops down onto her bed. “I  _ did _ have something to show you,” she says. She pulls her feet up under her and grabs her laptop. “That wasn’t just a lie to get my dad to go away.” She pats the spot on the bed next to her. “Sit.” 

Evan puts his backpack down by Zoe’s desk and sits next to her. “W-what is it?” 

She unlocks her computer and clicks on a folder. “Pictures of Connor when he was little,” she says with a smirk. She pulls up a picture of her and Connor at what looks like some sort of family gathering. “Look at his  _ hair _ . He’s so short, oh my god.” 

“You were too,” Evan points out. 

“Yeah, but I  _ stayed _ cute,” Zoe argues. 

Evan laughs. 

Him and Zoe go through most of the picture on Zoe’s laptop. She has commentary for almost all of them, and Evan just likes feeling like he knows her and Connor a little bit better. Then they watch a few YouTube videos while sharing headphones before Zoe sits up with wide eyes and pulls a keyboard out of her closet. She digs a headphone adaptor out of her desk and plugs it in, trying to teach Evan how to play a song he doesn’t even know the name of as she laughs through most of her instructions. 

“That’s— Evan, n—” Zoe snorts. “That’s a G, Evan, you want an F.” 

“I don’t know what these keys are!” he protests. 

“Oh my god, okay, so…” She points to a key. “D. Doghouse. Then you can go left, that’s C. Find middle C? You’re golden.” 

“But  _ why _ ?” 

Zoe nudges his hands away. She plays a few notes. “See?” 

Evan shakes his head. “Zoe, no offense, but like, you’re pretty bad at this.” 

“Maybe  _ you’re  _ the one who’s bad at this,” she counters. 

“I already knew that.” 

“I invite you into my  _ home _ ,” she says dramatically. She pulls the keyboard closer to her and plays a few bars. “Let’s see you do that, Hansen.” 

Evan slowly picks out hot crossed buns. 

“Hey, not bad!” Zoe grins. “I’ll make a pianist out of you, yet.” 

Evan rolls his eyes. 

There’s a knock at Zoe’s door. 

“Come in,” Zoe says, playing a jazzy melody as the door swings open a crack. “That’s his entrance music,” she whispers to Evan. 

Evan covers his mouth with a hand to stifle a laugh. 

Connor leans in. He still looks half asleep and has circles under his eyes. “I woke up to get food,” he says. “Heard noises.” 

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Zoe says. She plays part of Once Upon a Dream on the keyboard. 

Connor squints at the keys. “What…are you doing?” 

“I was trying to show Evan how to play piano, he’s my protégé,” she says. She pulls out her earbud. “But you’re welcome to steal him away.” 

Connor looks to Evan and Evan knows he’s about to ask if he minds, so he hands Zoe his earbud and stands up. 

“Thanks for trying,” he says, “but I really don’t think music is my thing.” 

Zoe shrugs. “Just takes time, kid. Just takes time.” 

“He’s older than you,” Connor says as Evan grabs his backpack off the floor. 

“I can’t hear you,” Zoe says, putting in the earbuds again. “The music, it’s too loud.” 

Connor opens the door more to let Evan out. Evan waves at Zoe, who gives him a thumbs up before Connor closes the door. 

“You could’ve woken me up,” he says. 

Evan shrugs. “It was nice hanging out with Zoe. She showed me baby pictures.” 

“She  _ what _ ?!” Connor asks as Evan grabs his hand and pulls him toward the stairs before he can bust down Zoe’s door. 

Evan looks back at Connor. “Have you eaten today?” 

Connor shrugs. “Dad woke me up and made me eat toast at like…uh…maybe ten thirty?” 

“Did you eat it?” 

“Some of it,” Connor admits. “I’m eating now, though. Have  _ you _ eaten?” 

Evan narrows his eyes at Connor. “ _ I’m  _ taking care of  _ you _ right now.” 

“Okay, okay.” 

Evan leaves his bag in the dining room and Connor leans against the island in the kitchen. 

“What do you want?” Evan asks. 

Connor gives him an amused look. “You’re cooking?” 

“Well…” Evan pulls open a cabinet that he vaguely remembers Zoe showing him. “Want mac n cheese?” 

“Sure.” Connor hops up onto the island and sits on the edge. “Will you burn it?” 

Evan makes a face. “Not if you’re nice to me.” He looks up at the boxes of mac n cheese. “Uh…do you want um…real aged cheddar or white cheddar. I guess…it’s fake white cheddar.” He looks over his shoulder at Connor. 

Connor shrugs. “Up to you.” 

“Okay, uh…” Evan pulls down a box of white cheddar shells. “‘Made with organic pasta’,” he reads from the box. “Wow.” 

“What?” Connor asks. 

Evan flips the box over and squints at the directions. “We just get Kraft. This is fancy.” 

Connor laughs. “It’s still just box mac n cheese, Ev,” he says, swinging his legs. 

“Yeah, okay. Where are the pots?” 

Connor directs Evan around the kitchen as he makes mac n cheese. Between steps, Evan leans against the island next to Connor and tells him about school, or what Alana relayed to him, because nothing new ever seems to happen to Evan. 

“Are you really going to measure out the milk?” Connor asks as Evan digs through a drawer full of measuring cups. 

“Yes,” Evan says seriously. “I can wing it with Kraft mac n cheese but this is the  _ nice stuff _ .” 

“You can’t mess it up that badly,” Connor promises. 

Evan gives Connor a flat look. 

“Keep looking for the right measuring spoon thing,” Connor says. “You’re right, we should follow the directions.” 

Evan gets everything out to make the cheese sauce with three minutes left. He turns back to Connor, who’s absentmindedly kicking his legs and leaning forward on his hands as he explains  _ why _ the Beowulf movie they’re watching in lit is possibly the worst and why Alana’s essay plan for Macbeth is ridiculous. 

If this were real, Evan would soak in the simplicity of this. The domesticity of making mac n cheese for his boyfriend as he listens to him talk about something he’s passionate about. He’d be able to pull Connor down into a kiss just because he wants to. 

But it isn’t. And he doesn’t. 

He just wishes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [THIS](http://grohver.tumblr.com/post/170759221524) is the bird video jared was watching. and [THIS](http://grohver.tumblr.com/tagged/jareds-bird-videos-for-when-things-go-to-shit) is a tag of just bird videos because i have this silly headcanon where jared just watched a lot of bird videos when things get bad
> 
> man that fucking mac n cheese scenes been sitting around in my drafts since i started this fic
> 
> anyway i didnt have much of a plan for this chapter so it just sorta evolved into All The Friends. also jareds moms?? and his cat?? also a surprise larry?? 
> 
> please dont waste your time with the animated beowulf. its got a 71% (???) on rotten tomatoes and i guess we had fun making fun of it, but its not exactly accurate and the implications about grendels mom,, also some crude lyrics, lots of cleavage, and im pretty sure an animated sex scene for a few hot seconds at the beginning. just dont watch it, my lit class made a mistake ("There’s no way you can convince me that this entire movie isn’t just deleted scenes from Shrek" is a direct quote from a classmate)
> 
> im on [tumblr](http://heavenansen.tumblr.com) if you want to see what bullshit im on when im supposed to be writing the next chapter. see you later


	14. $559

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Counting so many coins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> told you itd be like a month
> 
> ive been having a v v rough time lately, so for those of you whove been patient, thank you sm. if you havent i cant like do anything to you but like... yeah. please. anyway if this chapter has like a really weird tone to it its because i wrote like i think 3k of it today right now in this one sitting at work (im a terrible employee) and ive just had this fucking deep depressing sadness all day? idk man i was on the way to work this morning almost crying it was weird 
> 
> if any of my friends have tried to reach me today uhhhhhhhh i deleted my messaging apps last night? not the accounts just the apps but im literally posting this from a work computer and am planning on sleeping when i get home in like 45 minutes so you know. im really sorry ill talk to you tomorrow
> 
> shoutout to mana because like months ago she mentioned a coin war at school and i was like 'oh i can use this for this chapter where i have absolutely fucking nothing planned'. another shoutout because someone when i first first FIRST started planning this said something about connor digging through the couch for kiss money and we finally got to that. shoutout to flor for writing out the spanish alphabet when we were joking around the other day. if anyone has a problem with how that was written... *points* (im kidding) 
> 
> **warnings:** super minor drug ref (read end notes for me talking about knowing nothing about weed), anxiety, depression, references to past suicidal thoughts/suicide attempt
> 
> enjoy?

Connor stuffs his hand into the space between the cushions on the couch. He makes a face as he touches crumbs — Cynthia can get intense with her stress induced deep cleans, so it’s kind of amazing that there are even crumbs to feel — and slides his hand along the bottom of the couch.

Usually there’s _some_ amount of money to find in here.

“What are you doing?” Zoe asks from the doorway of the kitchen.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he asks. He finds a candy bar wrapper and stuffs it in his pocket to throw away.

“…well if you’re looking for the remote, it’s right on the table.”

Connor looks over his shoulder at the small pile of remotes on the coffee table. He doesn’t know when they found the remote for the DVD player, but apparently they did. “No, I’m looking for money.”

“Money,” Zoe repeats.

“Yeah.” He sticks his hand back into the couch and fishes around until he finds a quarter. “Any chance you’ve got five bucks you can lend me?”

“Are you going to buy weed?” she asks after a moment.

Connor looks up at her. “Are you serious?”

Zoe scowls. “Are you?”

“No?”

“Is that a question?”

“Fucking—” Connor stands up straight. “Zoe, five dollars of weed isn’t fucking worth it.”

Zoe makes a face.

Connor rolls his eyes. “The money is for Evan. I owe him for food the other day when I was at his place. I was going to steal it from Mom’s purse, but I forgot to grab it before her and Dad left.”

Zoe crosses her arms. “Real nice. Stealing from Mom. Cool.”

“She’d give me five dollars for pizza,” he says flatly. “Look, I’ll go to the ATM tomorrow and take out a five and hand it to you. You can watch me. I just promised Ev I would pay him back today, and I feel kind of shitty about not keeping my promise.”

Zoe sighs. “Fine. I’ll give you a five. But you owe me.”

“I always owe you.”

“That’s true,” she grumbles as she heads toward the stairs. “Do Mom and Dad know he’s coming over, anyway?”

Connor shrugs. He slid Evan the money Friday at school between classes. “I don’t know.”

“Awesome.”

Connor drops onto the couch as Zoe goes upstairs. He doesn’t really have a plan for today and he doesn’t know if he should. He kind of just wants to hang out with Evan and exist in the same space as another person for a little while. Nothing wrong with wanting to spend time with your best friend who you’re paying to fake date you. Nothing wrong with that.

“Here you go,” Zoe says when she comes back downstairs. She tosses the bill at Connor.

He lets it flutter down onto the couch cushion before he picks it up. He folds it in half and slides it into his pocket. “Thanks.”

“Do you mind if I practice later?” she asks, leaning against the back of the couch. “I have some music I need to work on for band, so you’ll be hearing a lot of saxophone.”

Connor shrugs. “Whatever, I don’t care.”

“Great.” Zoe pulls out her phone. “I’ll be in my room. Don’t do anything scandalous or whatever the fuck. Don’t lose your door.” She heads back into the kitchen.

Connor leans his head back against the couch and looks back at her. “I thought you didn’t want to hear about my sex life.”

“Oh my god, shut _up_!”

—«·»—

When Evan shows up, because he said he wanted to walk despite the snow the day before and Connor’s offer to pick him up, Zoe and Connor are sitting on the couch watching Planet Earth. Zoe had grabbed a yogurt from the fridge and dropped onto the couch, saying “I’ll practice later”. They exchange a glance when the doorbell rings and then Zoe nudges Connor until he gets up. Connor takes one last look at the lizards on the TV screen before he walks away.

Evan looks up at Connor with a half grin with Connor opens the door.

Connor presses the five dollar bill into Evan’s hand and kisses him quickly. “Zoe’s here,” Connor whispers as he pulls away.

He sees Evan’s eyes dart past him, probably looking to Zoe, who’s probably pretending that she’s still watching TV.

Connor steps aside and lets Evan in. He shuts and locks the door as Evan pulls off his old sneakers and puts them with the other shoes.

“Want anything to eat?” Connor asks.

“I’m good,” Evan says. “I had breakfast like two hours ago.”

“It’s like three in the afternoon,” Zoe says from the couch.

“I know.”

“My room?” Connor asks.

Evan nods and takes his hand.

Zoe raises her eyebrows at them as they pass her to the stairs. Connor sticks his tongue out at her and she wrinkles up her nose.

“What do you want to do?” Connor asks as he pushes open his door with his shoulder.

Evan shrugs. “Sleep,” he says honestly. “I know I only woke up at like eleven, but I’m kind of tired.”

“Okay.” Connor lets go of Evan’s hand and Evan face pants onto his bed. Connor bites back a smile as Evan groans and pulls his legs up onto the bed, curling up into a ball and pulling the blanket up over him.

“You know, you could’ve told me you didn’t want to come today,” Connor says as he sits on the edge of the bed. “I wouldn’t have cared.” He would’ve, but Evan doesn’t need to know that.

Evan turns his head and looks at Connor with one eye. “No, I want to be here,” he says. “‘m just tired.”

Connor squints. “That…doesn’t make sense.”

Evan pulls the blanket over his head.

Connor grabs a sketchbook and a random pen off of his desk He doodles random faces as the lump that is Evan breathes slowly, snoring softly every once and awhile. Connor colors the faces with whatever pens are on the top of his desk, meaning most of them are bright neon green and pink. After a little while, he hears Zoe come up the stairs and go into her room. A few minutes later, he can hear her practicing through the wall. He’s never really paid too much attention to her playing, but he can recognize that she’s pretty good and that she’s practicing some difficult music. She flips between a bunch of songs, probably rehearsing for whatever concert or event is coming up next.

Evan wakes up with a jerk after about two hours. He sits up suddenly, hair fluffed up from yanking the blanket away.

“You okay?” Connor asks slowly.

Evan breathes heavily for a few seconds. “Oh my god,” he whispers. He falls back onto the bed and stares up at the ceiling. “Naps suck.”

“Bad dream?”

He shakes his head. “No just…bad waking up? I don’t know. H-hold on, I need… I need my heart to calm down from the…adrenaline, I guess. Ugh.”

Connor tosses his sketchbook back onto the desk and lays down next to Evan. “What’s up?”

Evan rolls onto his side. “The ceiling?”

“Weak.”

“Canada.”

“Outer space?”

“Uh…clouds.”

“Stars. Probably.”

“Isn’t that included in outer space?” Evan asks with a smile.

Connor rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Got anything else?”

Evan chews on his bottom lip. “Dog?”

“I refuse to justify that with a response. What’s up?”

Evan glances up to the ceiling. “Lights.”

“A preposition.”

“No fair, you’re AP english smart.”

Connor laughs. “Come on, you’re smart too.”

“What’s up?” Evan asks.

“The roof.”

“Birds.”

“Satellites.”

“Also in space,” Evan points out.

 “Fuck.”

Evan laughs softly, in a sort of breathless way that makes Connor’s breath catch in his throat. And _god_ , Connor wishes he had a good excuse to kiss Evan right now. It’s killing him to have to be constantly looking for different reasons to kiss Evan. It’s easier at school, where Connor can steal a quick kiss because people are around and it’s not like there aren’t plenty of other couples making out between classes or copping a feel against the lockers. But when Evan and Connor are alone together, there’s no reason for them to be kissing or holding hands. Which is so much worse, because there are so many moments when they’re by themselves and Connor looks at Evan and finds himself thinking about how fucking _hard_ he has fallen.

Connor inhales sharply. Evan furrows his eyebrows.

What if he told Evan? What if he did that right now, what if he just let it all out. How much would he be putting on the line, how much could he lose?

He’s trying to find the words to use when the saxophone music next door stops abruptly.

Connor listens carefully to Zoe’s footsteps. He knows her step pattern well at this point in their lives, and she’s coming to his room and not the bathroom. He glances to Evan’s lips. _Technically_ , this is an excuse.

Connor reaches out and wraps an arm around Evan’s waist, pulling him closer and kissing him hard. Evan squeaks softly when noses bump together before he melts into the kiss and buries a hand in Connor’s hair. Connor tightens his grip on Evan’s waist and deepens the kiss and pretends and pretends and _pretends_.

If all else fails, Connor can just say that he wanted Zoe to leave them alone. Which he does.

The door swings open and Connor jerks away from Evan, pushing himself up onto his hands, which are braced on either side of Evan’s head. Connor looks back over his shoulder at Zoe, who stares at him for a painfully long second before slamming the door shut and rattling the walls.

Connor brushes his hair out of his eyes before glancing down at Evan.

Evan blinks up at him. His hair is a mess from the blankets and his cheeks are tinged pink. Evan licks his lips and Connor sits up and scoots away from him.

Connor clears his throat. “Sorry about that.”

“You’re fine,” Evan says quickly.

Connor’s phone vibrates in his pocket. He pulls it out and skims the text messages, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

 **From: Z**  
To: C  
            1. I literally told you not to lose your door I was in the neXT  FUCKING R O O M  
            2. Did you two want pizza for dinner I’m ordering pizza since there’s almost no way mom and dad are bringing us back leftovers from their fancy banquet thing  
            3. I’m begging you to put a fucking sock on the door next time or something god Connor please spare me from this I’m BEGGING YOU

“What is it?” Evan asks, leaning closer to see the screen.

Connor tilts his phone so Evan can read the texts. “Zoe being dramatic. Want pizza?”

“I kind of always want pizza,” Evan says. He leans against Connor’s arm. Connor tries not to think about it too much.

Connor swallows thickly. “Cool. Give me your order and I’ll text it to Zoe.”

* * *

 

“Whoa, you look like shit.”

Alana gives Connor a forced smile as she sits down next to him in literature. “Thank you, I really appreciate that, Connor.”

“I mean…” He glances toward the bored. “Uh…so…Macbeth. That’s…” He glances at Alana out of the corner of his eye.

“Yes, Macbeth,” she repeats. “Do you have anything to say _about_ Macbeth?”

“Yeah.” He slouches lower into his seat. “If Adams talks about juxtaposition again I’ll rip my eyes out Oedipus Rex style.”

Alana puts her textbook on the desk. “I suppose that’s fair.”

Connor eyes Alana carefully. “Are you…okay?”

She glances to him with wide eyes before she bends down to pull her pencil case out of her backpack. “I’m fine, thank you. How are you?”

He twiddles his pencil between his fingers. “Fine.”

Connor watches her in his peripheral vision for the rest of class, because something seems off. From the way she doesn’t snap to attention when the teacher asks questions, to how she takes her notes. He doodles characters in the margins of his notebook — notably and pretty decently, he thinks, Lady Macbeth with blood covered hands and Macbeth grabbing for an invisible dagger — but Alana doesn’t say a word about how he should be paying attention.

When the bell rings, Connor watches her pack up and leave the classroom without a word.

—«·»—

Evan wraps his pinky finger around Connor’s as they walk up to Evan’s locker. Evan isn’t really in the mood for talking today — he had murmured ‘babe’ when Connor leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek earlier — but Jared is ready to talk like he always is, so Jared is going on about something his cat did. Evan unlocks his locker and and hands Connor the lock as Jared says something about one of his moms buying a new cat toy, just for Turtle to sit in an Amazon box.

Connor has to let go of Evan’s hand so Evan can put away his books, but as soon as Evan’s backpack is back on, Evan holds a hand out to Connor.

Connor hands him the lock.

Evan rolls his eyes and takes it, locks the locker, and takes Connor’s hand again.

The three of them are walking down the hallway when Alana steps out of a classroom and immediately starts talking.

“Are you free right now?” she asks Jared, her perfect smile pasted to her face.

Jared squints at her. “…why?”  

“I need help with something.” She rocks back on her heels. “Any time if you can offer it.” There’s a crease between her eyebrows and her eyes dart from Jared to Connor.

“Uh… I don’t…have anything now,” Jared says slowly.

Alana claps her hands together. “Fantastic! Would you mind counting pennies with me?”

Jared blinks.

“For the penny war?” Alana asks. “We have homeroom all week for it _and_ it was on the announcements.”

Connor sort of remembers this being talked about, but he had taken advantage of the twenty minute homeroom before the first class to nap.

“I was doing calc homework,” Jared says with a shrug.

Alana gives him a flat look. “Please pay more attention to your school and community.”

“Don’t you have the council for this?” Connor asks. He gets using Jared for his questionable graphic design skills, but Connor is pretty sure that anyone in high school has the ability to count boxes of pennies.

“Well yes,” Alana says. “But no one on a bus could stay and no one with a job could stay and no one who does after school sports could stay and then I had four people to help me but one was absent today, two are staying after with a teacher, and another had a doctor’s appointment.”

Connor raises his eyebrows.

Alana’s smile gets wider. “Could you offer me a few minutes of your time?” she asks Jared. “If it’s no trouble?”

“We can help too,” Evan says softly. He squeezes Connor’s hand tightly. Connor squeezes back. He’s not sure if it’s a grounding thing or a reassurance thing or just a thing, but he does it. “We were just going to wait for Zoe.”

Alana blinks rapidly. “Really?”

Connor nods. “Yeah sure. My dream was always to count pennies for a war I didn’t believe in.”

Alana blinks a few more times. She takes a breath and squares her shoulders. “Great,” she says with a quick shake of her head. “We brought all the boxes to the library after today’s homeroom, so we can just do it there.” She turns toward the library and walks briskly down the hall.

“Jesus,” Jared mutters, watching her disappear around the corner.

“Yeah,” Evan murmurs.

—«·»—

“I take it back,” Connor says, staring at the pile of boxes on the table. “I can’t do this. I’m sick.”

Jared dumps his backpack on the floor. “Boo you whore.”

Alana turns away from the boxes with a serious expression on her face. “Well there’s thirty seven  homerooms, so there are thirty seven boxes. There are four of us, so that’s nine and a forth box each. Or one of us can count ten.”

“Oh god,” Evan whispers.

Alana takes a box and moves it to another table. “It’s really quite simple. We count the pennies and the silver and bills. Pennies are positive, silver and bills are negative.”

“So…subtraction,” Jared says slowly.

“Yes, subtraction. You’re in AP Calculus, Jared, please keep up.”

Jared gives Connor and Evan a flat look.

Alana purses her lips. “We really do have to be exact about counting since it’s money, so please try to stay focused. And if you lose count, it’s probably best to start over.”

“Let’s get this over with,” Connor says as Alana starts setting up. “Whatever.”

It takes them about ten minutes to each develop their own counting style. Alana’s is arguably the best and most organized. She covers her part of the table in sticky notes, stacking her pennies in neat stacks of ten and then moving those into neat rows of one hundred. For her other coins, she counts by dollars. Evan counts each individual coin and then does the math out on a notebook that Alana handed him. Connor stacks his coins up to a dangerous height and then dumps them back into the box, randomly writing down how much money he has. And Jared… Connor can’t exactly figure out what Jared’s doing.

Within the first three minutes, Jared had accidentally knocked one of Connor’s stacks, and Alana and Evan had immediately dragged them away from each other before Connor could strangle Jared or something. Then, Jared had kept spreading out further and further, so Alana banished him to another table. Which he stayed at for approximately two minutes before he ended up on the floor.

“What’s this?” Jared asks from the floor, holding up a coin.

Alana glances over at what he’s holding. “That’s a dime.”

“Oh shit you’re right,” he whispers.

Connor’s decided the worst part about this is that it’s boring as fuck. He’s done with two boxes, he lucked out with his second one because it had barely anything in it, and on his third, but he can’t really hold focus. He keeps counting the same stack over and over again, because his mind keeps wandering. He digs his phone and headphones out of his pocket and plugs them.

Evan glances over at him as he puts in his headphones. Connor offers him one of the earbuds, which Evan takes with a half smile. Connor turns down the music a little bit and goes back to counting.

“Who’s got ten dollars to spare for sabotage?” Evan asks in awe a few boxes later.

“It’s for charity,” Alana says with a shrug.

Evan holds up the bill to the light, like he’s trying to make sure if it’s real or something. “I mean— yeah. Just— yeah.”

“Ouch,” Jared says. “Negative ten? Get fucked whatever homeroom that is.” 

“Fuck math,” Connor grumbles, dumping a handful of nickels into a box. “And money. And capitalism.”

“Are we overthrowing the government?” Jared asks.

“Later,” Alana says. “We’re almost done.”

“You can’t postpone _revolution_.”

“Be quiet, Jared.”

When they’ve finished counting all of the money, which takes way too fucking long in Connor’s opinion, Alana starts writing down numbers in a notebook.

“You’re free to go,” she says, gesturing toward the door with her pencil.

“Rad,” Jared says. He scoops up his backpack and heads to the door.

Connor grabs the top loop of his backpack and yanks him back. “You sure, Lana?” he asks as Jared tries to wiggle away.

She nods. “I just have to get everything together for the advisors of the Council. They handle the rest from here. Thank you, though, I really appreciate it.”

Connor lets go of Jared, who stumbles forward a few steps.

“Dickhead,” Jared grumbles.

Connor shrugs and pulls the strap of his bag over his head. He offers his hand to Evan, who takes it and waves goodbye to Alana. They sit outside the band room for about three minutes until Zoe gets out of rehearsal.

“You didn’t go into a practice room?” she asks in surprise.

“We were helping Alana with a STUCO thing in the library,” Connor says. He gets to his feet and pulls Evan up after him. “My hands smell like money now and I kind of hate it, can we go?”

Zoe makes a face but starts down the hallway. Evan holds a hand up to his face and sniffs his fingers.

“Ew,” he says, jerking his hand away and wiping it on his pants.

Connor wrinkles his nose. “Try not to think about it.” 

* * *

“Do you need help today?” Evan asks. Connor rests his head against Evan’s shoulder as Evan holds a textbook for Jared.

Alana chews on her lip as she scrolls through her phone. “Unfortunately,” she grumbles.

“Yo, does the Student Council like…actually exist?” Jared asks. He takes the textbook from Evan and stuffs it into his backpack.

“It exists,” Alana says firmly. “I just— yesterday when people checked in to see if I finished counting and I said that I found people to help, I believe that they thought that I would have help for the rest of the week—”

“You do,” Evan says. “I mean…” He looks to Jared and reaches up to run his hand over Connor’s hair. “I can help.”

Jared shrugs. “I’m game. I don’t have a life.”

Connor turns his face into Evan’s shoulder. “Whatever,” he mumbles.

“Does anyone like…really…care about the Council?” Evan asks before Alana can turn to walk away.

“I…” She adjusts her glasses. “I mean, I don’t know if I would really call anyone in our Council, uh, _passionate_ about it. It’s a college application booster,” she says with a shrug. “I won’t deny that. I just… I think it would be nice if people took responsibility for the things that they chose to sign up for. Even if it’s not fun.”

“Yeah,” Evan murmurs. “That makes sense.”    

It’s kind of unfortunate that Connor actually has to stand up more to walk to the library. When they get there, Evan grabs a few boxes and wanders over to the couches in the center of the library. Connor follows after him, just because he kind of really needs physical contact right now for some reason. He’s too tired to figure out what’s going on in his brain. Evan stacks the boxes on the table in front of the couch and sits down. Connor sits down next to him, if being on the other side of the couch counts as next to.

It’s kind of awful, the fact that he desperately wants to at least be closer to Evan right now, but another part of himself doesn’t want to be too clingy. He doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries, boundaries that they constantly enforce. But still.

“You okay?” Evan asks. Over at the tables, Jared is laying across a few chairs and staring at the ceiling as Alana pulls out her notebook of all things Student Council.

“Am I ever?” Connor asks in return.

“Sometimes,” Evan says.

Connor looks at him.

“You are. Sometimes you’re better than other times.” Evan looks at his boxes. “I don’t know how to explain it better than that, but I think you’re okay more often than it feels looking back. Feeling bad now makes all of the past feel bad too, but I don’t think that’s how it actually works.”

“Huh.”

Evan opens up one of the boxes and carefully slides all of the coins out of it. “Do you want to help today?”

“Not right now,” Connor admits. “Maybe in a little bit.”

“Okay.” Evan stands up and pulls the table closer to the couch. Then he sits directly next to Connor. He tugs on Connor’s arm until Connor is leaning against him and starts counting coins.

Connor closes his eyes.

—«·»—

“Thanks for earlier,” Connor says softly as they’re leaving the library, this time with Alana trailing after them on her phone as she goes through her unread emails.

“What do you mean?” Evan asks. He fiddles with the rings on Connor’s fingers as they walk.

Connor shrugs. “When we were on the couch.”

“Oh.” Evan lowers Connor’s hand and intertwines their fingers. “Well, yeah, of course.”

“You didn’t have to—”

“‘course I did,” Evan interrupts. “I love you.”

Connor almost trips over his next step. He stares at Evan with wide eyes.

“Gross,” Jared says.

Connor looks back at Jared. Jared meets his eyes and looks just as surprised. Connor blinks. His eyes dart over to Alana, who’s watching Evan and him with a half smile.

“Get a room,” Jared continues, before the pause goes on for too long.

“Shut up, Jared,” Connor mutters. He pulls his hand away from Evan’s and wraps his arm around Evan’s shoulder instead. His heart is pounding in his ears and he feels like he’s walking on jello.

He’ll have to thank Jared later.

—«·»—

“Earlier,” Connor says, running his hand through his hair as they stand on Evan’s doorstep. “When you…” He clears his throat and Evan looks away. “Do you, like…want me to, uh, pay you more for that or something?” Connor glances to the ground and finds the toes of his boots incredibly interesting.

“No!” Evan says quickly. “No no, I— no, don’t do that. They’re— You don’t have to. They’re…just words.”

“Right,” Connor says.

“Words,” Evan mumbles. He coughs. “I think Zoe…”

“Yeah, definitely. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Evan agrees. He tugs on Connor’s sweatshirt to pull him forward and presses a kiss to his cheek. “Bye.”

“You okay?” Zoe asks when Connor climbs back into the car.

“I’m fine,” he says, resting his forehead against the window.

“Hm.” She turns up her bad music and backs out of Evan’s driveway.

They’re just words. Everything is just words.   

* * *

“Sorry I can’t help today,” Evan apologies. He puts his letter into his backpack. “Will you be okay?”

“We’ll be fine,” Alana promises. “It just might take a little longer than the past few days.”

“Fuck,” Jared whispers.

Connor elbows him sharply.

“I’ll see you guys later,” Evan says as he leaves the library.

Connor turns to look at stack of boxes. “Hey, Alana,” he says.

“Yes?” she asks, not looking up from setting up her sticky notes.

“I kind of hate this.”

“I think that’s fair.”

Connor had told himself that there wasn’t going to be anything different about today just because Evan wasn’t here. And for a little while, that’s true. It’s a little strange not having Evan next to him sharing his headphones, but it’s the same mind numbing task that it was the other two days.

Until Jared starts humming.

Connor looks up to meet Alana’s eyes. “Don’t you fucking dare,” he says to Jared. He already knows what fucking earworm Jared is entertaining, and Connor can’t stand it.

Jared doesn’t stop piling up his coins. But he does start singing. “1-877 kars4kids—”

Alana takes off her glasses and presses the base of her palms against her eyes.

“—K-A-R-S kars for kids. 1-877 kars4kids, donate your car today!”

“If you do a repeat of that,” Connor says, “I will shove this stack of pennies down your throat.”

Jared pauses. “Ah, Be, Ce, De, E—”

“ _Jesus_.”

“Efe, Gé, HAcHE, Í, JoTa, Ka—”

“When was the last time you took spanish?” Alana asks, lowering her hands from her eyes.

Jared shrugs. “Sophomore year. I can tell you that I like to swim and the color purple. _Púrpura_!”

“How does Evan put up with you?” Connor asks.

Jared flips him off.

“Can we just _count_?” Alana asks, exasperated. Jared opens his mouth and she points at him. “Count the pennies. Silently. We’re almost halfway through the week, we can do this.”

“We _have to_ ,” Jared counters. “We’re your only hope. Obi Wan…” 

Alana takes a measured breath. “Just…count.   .” 

Connor starts building his stacks of coins into a castle as Jared continues to hum on the floor. Alana slides her glasses back on, stands up, paces around the library for a few minutes, and then sits back down to continue counting. Connor finishes counting for his box and dumps all the coins back in before writing the total amount of pennies and silver on one sticky note and the amount that they actually made on another.

The next box he picks up is suspiciously light. When he opens it, there’s just a single twenty dollar bill inside. Connor closes the box up and writes a sticky that says “-$20.00”. He draws a sad face on it — even though technically this is still good because _charity_ but negative twenty dollars is kind of shit for the competition — and sticks it to the top of the box.

As he’s reaching for a new box, Jared starts humming again.

Alana closes her eyes. “Jared—”

“Can we not pause for a classic?” he asks. He sits back on his heels with a wide grin.

Connor raises an eyebrow. “A classic?”

“Fuck yeah!” Jared keeps humming.

Connor thinks that the song is vaguely familiar, but gun to his head, he couldn’t name it or sing it.

“You remember this?” Alana asks in surprise.

Jared laughs. “Hell yeah I do! _I’m coming home to my biome, tell the world that I’m coming home_ —”

Connor scowls. He remembers this now. “Fucking—”

“ _Let the rain wash away_ —”

“—can we _not_?”

“— _all the pain from yesterday_ —”

“Aren’t those just the lyrics of the original song now?” Alana asks.

“Shhh,” Jared shushes her as he stands up. He puts his hands on his hips. “Where was I? Oh right.”

Connor drags a hand down his face as Jared goes back to singing.

“ _I know my kiiiingdom awaits and they’ve forgiven my mistakes. I’m coming home to my biome, tell the world that I’m coming_ —” Jared dabs and then immediately starts humming the instrumental backing.

Connor looks to Alana. “Alana, I need you to kill me.”

“Usually Evan has me on that part,” Jared says, “but I’ve totally got this more rap-y part down and I’ve _got this_.”

Alana’s eyes go wide. “Actually, I don’t think we need you to—”

“ _Doo doo doo doo— I’m back where I belong, yeah, in my own biome. I feel like this climate is just riiiiight, and if you with me put your hands hiiiigh_ —” Jared throws his hands up in the air.

Alana sighs and sits back into her chair, putting down her pencil and settling in for the long run.

 _Dammit_ , Connor thinks.

“ _If you ever lost your way before, this one’s for you_.” Jared points at Alana. She puts her head in her hands. “ _I heard the call of the macaaaaw_ ,” he raps, flapping his arms. “ _I_ love _their song. The rainforest is hot and sticky on the floor, it’s gonna rain again at dawn_ —”

Connor glances to the library doors as they open. He meets Zoe’s eyes as she pauses in the doorway to watch Jared dance.

“ _Another boa, capybara, jaguar, and gibbon. With the canopy, understory, and forest floor_ ,” Jared dramatically gestures to the ceiling and then the floor, “ _it’s got a lot of stuff and it’s near the equator. What if they keep knockin’ down all the palms?_ ” He mimes swinging an ax. “ _How do I respond?_ ”

“Uh…hi?” Zoe asks.

Jared drops into the nearest chair, which happens to be the one next to Connor. He grabs a fistfull of Connor’s coins and holds them out to Zoe. “Can I offer you a nickle or two?”

“ _Dude_.” Connor hits Jared’s arm until Jared puts the coins back into the box.

Zoe slowly closes the library door. “Am I interrupting?”

“Yeah,” Jared says at the same time that Alana says, “Absolutely not.” They exchange a glance.

“Right,” Zoe says. “Um…what’s up?”

“Jared,” Alana says pointedly, “was giving us a little musical interlude. We’re almost done though, we’re just a little slower today without Evan. Connor can leave as soon as he’s done counting that box if you want to go.”

Connor nudges Jared until Jared gets up and goes back to counting his coins on the floor. Jared flicks a quarter at Connor’s foot.

Zoe lowers her saxophone case to the floor. “I…can help?” 

“Really?” Alana asks. She sits up a little straight. “I mean— you’re absolutely welcome to help if you’d like to, but you shouldn’t feel obligated.”

“Like we are?” Jared asks.

Alana kicks her foot in Jared’s direction.

“God, _okay_! I’ll _count_!”

Alana stands up and explains the process to Zoe as Jared sings softly to himself on the floor. Connor stifles a yawn and pulls back his hair.

Back to work they go.

* * *

 

“No offense,” Jared says as they lay on the floor of the library stacking dimes into piles, “but I have never in my life wanted to spend this much time with you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Connor says.

“Sorry,” Evan says, bursting into the library. “English— I…” He grabs a box. “Sorry. Sorry.”

“You’re fine,” Alana promises. “It’s going to be a long day, so I suggest getting comfortable. Today seems to be the last ditch attempt to do well in the competition.”

Jared rolls over onto his back to stare at the ceiling. “I’ve never supported the kill the penny movement more before this moment.”

“T-that’s a thing?” Evan asks. He sits down next to Connor. He starts to scoot closer and Connor moves forward to grab a stack of nickels.

“Hey, babe,” Connor says softly. Saying it always kind of makes him feel weird. He did promise Evan that he’d use it when he felt uncomfortable, but it still feels bad. Like he’s rejecting Evan or something. Even though that’s totally not what he’s doing.

Evan just opens his box and starts separating his coins. “How was your english test thing today?” he asks.

Connor is always a little surprised that Evan never responds negatively to the codeword. For some reason, Connor always expects him to recoil in horror. He’s not sure if there’s any logic to that expectation, but it’s there nonetheless.

“It was easy,” Connor says. They had to write a quick analysis essay of a soliloquy in Macbeth. Connor is kind of shit at thesis statements and tends to write himself in circles, but because they were practicing for the AP exam, his teacher wasn’t expecting a fucking literary masterpiece. Connor is pretty sure that he made a few good arguments and pulled out some badass terminology, so it’ll probably be fine.

“What about you?” Evan asks, looking up at Alana.

She looks up from her notebook. “The lit analysis?” she asks. “It went very well. I had a lot of thoughts on that passage, so it was great to have an essay where I could just explore them.”

“Cool,” Jared says, rolling back over. “Poll, does anyone care if I play music out loud today? No? Awesome.”

—«·»—

“Zoe has a long rehearsal today,” Evan says as they pack up. Jared’s already abandoned the premises and Alana is doing the final math out for the day.

Connor looks to Evan in surprise. “She does?”

Evan nods. “The pit is doing a run through of the musical, so it’s going to take however long that is. She said she’d text us when she’s done.”

Connor doesn’t remember this conversation at all, but he trusts Evan to remember and tell the truth and he trusts Zoe to not abandon them at school or risk facing the wrath of their mother.

“We can go hang out in the library across the street if you want,” Evan says. “Or if you’re hungry we can go to like…McDonald’s or Starbucks. But I don’t know if you want to be around people.” 

“Right.” Connor pulls his bag on. “Maybe just… Are you hungry?”

Evan shrugs. “Not really. We can always grab food later.”

“Yeah. Library?”

“Sounds good.”

They sit in the back corner of the library for a while. Connor reads a book that he’s been meaning to get his hands on for a while and Evan studies for a test he has next week. After almost an hour, Evan’s stomach grumbles and he meets Connor’s eyes sheepishly.

“I might be hungry now,” he admits.

They end up going to Starbucks, because it’s closer and less crowded than McDonald’s usually is because it’s a little bit further away from the high school. Connor orders while Evan stands next to him, having told him what he wanted while they were waiting in line. As they wait for their drinks, Connor spots a few people from school at one of the tables. He takes his hand out of his pocket and takes Evan’s hand.

Evan looks up at him with raised eyebrows.

“I’m good,” Connor promises and Evan takes a step closer to him.

They hold hands while they sit at a table by the window and eat pastries. Connor notes when the other high school students leave and ignores the fact that Evan keeps holding his hand. Evan probably didn’t see them leave.

* * *

 

Alana stares down the boxes with a determined look on her face and her hands on her hips. The thirty seven boxes tower over her.

“Do we say something?” Jared stage whispers to Connor and Evan. Connor rolls his eyes.

“Last day,” Alana says. “It’s the last day.”

“Thank fucking god,” Connor mutters.

Alana takes a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”

Jared starts laughing hysterically when he finds one box stuffed with bills. Total, there’s about seventy dollars of bills in the box and Jared finds extreme joy in subtracting seventy whole dollars from that homeroom’s total penny count.

“I don’t even know who’s in that homeroom,” Evan says in awe as Jared adds it to the table full of boxes that have been completely counted.

“It’s a sophomore homeroom,” Alana explains. “You probably don’t even know anyone in it.”

“Someone hates them,” Jared says. “This is so fucking incredible. You couldn’t get seventy bucks out of them for anything _other_ than a totally pointless competition. There’s not even a prize to this thing, right?”

“Well, there is a pizza party,” Alana says. “But I don’t know if that’s what you mean.”

“Oh _fuck_ ,” he says. “Scratch what I was about to say, I’d absolutely spend seventy bucks sabotaging someone to get a piece of pizza.”

“You could also…go buy some,” Evan points out.

Jared shrugs. “There’s something about winning that makes it taste better. Plus like…honor and bragging rights and shit.”

They’re over halfway through the boxes when Zoe shows up.

“Rehearsal was short,” she says, putting down her instruments and dumping her bag on the floor before grabbing a box and joining Jared on the floor.

At one point, Connor knocks over one of his stacks, which falls onto Evan’s piles of coins. They look at each other for a long moment before looking at the coins.

“Who cares,” Connor says eventually. “It all goes to charity.” He remakes his stack into what he sort of thinks it might have been and moves on.

Evan moves his coin piles a little further away.

When there’s one box left, Connor and Evan slow their count. Jared starts to get up to grab it, but when he realizes it’s the last one, he lays back down on the floor. Zoe is too invested in her own counting to even notice when Alana gets up to grab it.

Alana picks it up and walks away. She does a double take, looking back at the now empty table. She stares down at the box and very softly says, “Oh my god.”

Connor brings his and Evan’s boxes over to the table of counted boxes. Jared scrambles to his feet to follow him and Zoe finishes her count. They gather around Alana as she counts out the last box. It doesn’t have much in it and she’s developed such a structured system at this point that it only takes her a few minutes to count everything up, do the math, and sweep the coins up into the box. She shuts the box and stands up.

Alana takes a deep breath and puts it on the table. “We’re done.”

Jared whoops and throws his hands into the air.

Alana sniffs and wipes her cheek with the back of her hand.

Zoe touches her arm lightly. “Are you crying?”

“I’m fine,” Alana says quickly.

“Oh shit.” Jared drops his arms.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Alana promises with a laugh. “Just…overwhelmed. I— I still have to do the math out for—”

Jared snatches her notebook off the table. “For fuck’s sake, I’m passing AP calc, give me a few minutes.”

“Are— are you sure you’re okay?” Evan asks her.

Alana nods and takes a shaky breath. “Thank you. Really. I… I really thought I was going to be counting these coins by myself all week but—” She shakes her head. “I know it was awful and no one wanted to do it—”

Connor steps forward and wraps Alana up in a hug. He doesn’t really think about it or ask if it’s okay, it’s sort of a natural reaction. Zoe joins the hug next, resting her cheek on the top of Alana’s head.

“You were never going to do this shit alone,” Connor says. “I mean— fuck.”

Alana laughs weakly. Connor thinks she might be shaking a little bit when she wraps her arms around him.

“Love group hugs,” Jared says. He pulls Evan into the hug with him.

It’s kind of weird, Connor thinks. Because none of this would’ve been even slightly probable a few months ago. He doesn’t know what he thought the end of this year would look like— for a while there wasn’t going to _be_ an end of the year to see.

If someone had asked him at the start of the year how the second half would be, he would’ve laughed. If they had gotten a serious answer out of him, it wouldn’t have looked anything like this. He wouldn’t be talking to his sister. He wouldn’t be talking to Jared fucking Kleinman. He wouldn’t have someone he could call his boyfriend, real or fake. He wouldn’t be standing in the library almost two hours after school ended, hugging his friends because they just spent an entire week counting coins for charity.

It’s all built on a shaky foundation of lies and fraud.

Connor keeps ignoring that. If he can just keep pretending that it’s all real, maybe he can convince himself that it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DONT KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT WEED!!!! i literally spent like 30 minutes on some weed forum i found when i like googled 'how much weed can you get for $5' and the answers were suuuper all over the place so just fucking. please,,,, let me live,,,,,, my only experience with someone buying/selling weed is when a roommate last semester was asking us if we wanted to buy an 1/8th for $40. which...now having read that forum......................................what
> 
> [my biome by mr parr](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0A5eeE93uEA). everyone in my entire school district knows it. jared and evan also know all of the glycolysis rap
> 
> i know the codeword thing hasn't super come up in this fic. i think i was trying to find a spot where it was first used for reactions but then i just kinda. dropped the ball on that one. in my head as i was driving from job to job today i came up with this huge thing i could write about it but i'm not going to do that unless somewhere out there is dying for my thoughts on the use of it and what it means and stuff. it's not important i just talk a lot 
> 
> uhhhhhhhhhh right disclaimer for student council. i was gonna do that. there ARE ppl who are super passionate about stuco. i knew some of them. i had a v v bad experience with high school stuco and the year i was on eboard, no one else really...did anything. the other eboard members did ofc but none of the members really like showed up for stuff. there were meetings where it was like 3 ppl other than the eboard. i was public relations and i dealt with a lot of shit doing posters and stuff. im just venting and this is smth i lowkey understand that alana does so... yeah. idk . 
> 
> we did penny wars in middle school but fuck it high schoolers probably do them to. hope that part was clear. sorry i didnt do total money counts ive got no idea whats realistic 
> 
> feel free to harass me or send me stuff on [tumblr](http://heavenansen.tumblr.com). join me on my endeavor to get the zoemurphy url. also like comment and subscribe. read that in a youtuber voice. leave a comment if i should add 'naps' to the tags on this fic cause good lORD do these boys sleep a lot


	15. $582

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi-C and late nights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first things first, thank you so much for 1k kudos <3
> 
> its been so long and im so so sorry. like a month ago when i thought i was going to post this close to when i normally post chapters, i had so much i wanted to say here. now i'm just so tired and desperately want people to just...read this 
> 
> a gentle reminder that this is a first draft because this is a disaster. i wish i could give you something more or better or...yeah. here you go 
> 
> **warnings:** anxiety, depression, anxiety/panic attacks, references/mentions of suicide and suicidal thoughts, some implied homophobia, some implied transphobia. please ask if you would like more detailed warnings and let me know if i need to add others
> 
> enjoy? idk

The thing about fake dating Connor is that Evan’s mom is always asking about Connor. She asks about Jared and Alana too, but not as often as Connor. Which is fair. Jared comes over occasionally and Heidi will see him around, but Evan spends a lot more time with Connor than Jared. The problem is that Evan and Connor don’t really go out on dates. Evan thinks — Evan  _ likes _ to think — that if they were really dating, things would probably stay the same. Evan doesn’t really like going out, too many people and too much happening, and he’s pretty sure Connor’s the same. 

If he really knows Connor. Which he isn’t always sure he does.

But that’s not the most thrilling answer for his mom. So Evan makes things up. Sometimes him and Connor will have ‘gone to the movies’, which basically just means that they sat in Connor’s room and watched YouTube for a few hours. 

Jared says that’s a valid date. Evan doesn’t trust anything Jared says ever. 

The other problem is that Heidi  _ asking  _ about Connor sometimes makes it feel too real. When Evan talks about Connor with Jared, there’s mutual understanding that everything is kind of a terrible bullshit disaster, despite whatever Evan may or may not feel. When Evan talks to his mom, it’s a lot harder to remember that it’s all fake. And when he does remember, it hurts all that much more. 

So Evan keeps pushing off the dinner Heidi wants to have. She’s still really busy, which helps, and Evan keeps making up tests and essays that people have to do. Alana’s always doing something, so a lot of times Evan will just shift whatever Alana’s doing onto Connor as well. Because Connor’s never doing anything ever, which he’ll tell Evan whenever Evan texts him and apologizes for bothering him. 

Heidi probably thinks that Connor and Alana are a lot closer than they are. But that’s fine. This is all fine. 

After Connor and Evan break up, Evan will just pretend he never knew Connor at all. Which he can pretend is less painful than talking about him. 

Evan isn’t sure how much pretending will be involved in that. There isn’t any pretending on his part anymore. 

* * *

“I feel like I’m in kindergarten again,” Connor says, stabbing his box of Hi-C with his straw. 

Evan snorts. “Juice boxes aren’t  _ just _ for little kids.” 

“Uh, yeah they are.” Connor bends the straw. “You graduate from juice  _ boxes _ to juice  _ pouches _ , and then you’re cool as  _ fuck _ .” 

Evan rolls his eyes. 

“Who said you were cool?” Jared asks.

Connor flips him off. 

“Mom doesn’t buy sugar-y juice anymore,” Zoe says. She steals a pretzel from Alana and sits back down on the arm of Jared’s couch. “We’ve been drinking sugar free fruit and vegetable juice for years.” 

“You must be very healthy,” Alana says. She passes the bag of pretzels over to Zoe from where she’s sitting in an armchair. 

“Yeah I could run a fucking marathon,” Connor deadpans. “Watch me  _ go _ .” 

Evan pokes him with his straw. “You should take up  _ yoga _ ,” Evan suggests, just because he knows that it will annoy Connor. 

“Stick that straw where it belongs,” Connor says. “And the day I do yoga is the day I die.” 

“We did yoga in gym sophomore year,” Jared says. 

“I knew I’ve been dead this whole time.” 

Zoe throws a pretzel at Connor. It hits him in the side of the head and he turns to her with an offended look on his face. Zoe shrugs. “Square up.” 

Evan rolls his eyes and pokes the straw into his juice box. He takes a sip and then grabs his meds from where he’s carefully lined them up on the coffee table next to a bag of popcorn. It takes the rest of the juice box to get them all down, but now he doesn’t have to think about them anymore. 

“Another?” Jared asks him. 

Evan nods and leans forward to avoid getting hit by another one of Zoe’s flying pretzels. Connor bats away the pretzel with a hand and sticks his tongue out at Zoe. She makes a face and sticks her hand into the bag to grab more ammunition. Connor leans against Evan to avoid getting a pretzel to the eye.

Jared bends down and grabs the pretzel from there floor where it landed after it bounced off Connor’s shoulder. “Hey, can we not have a foodfight in my living room? Because then I’ll have to vacuum it and whenever I vacuum, Turtle hates me for like…multiple hours.” 

“Oh you so shouldn’t have said that,” Connor says. “Zoe, give me the pretzel bag.” 

Zoe holds the pretzels as far from him as she can and Evan grabs his arms. 

“Please don’t,” Evan says.

“This is cheating,” Connor says flatly. 

Evan squeezes his hands and sits up on his knees to press a quick kiss to Connor’s lips. Evan tells himself that he’s totally doing this to keep up the lie. When he pulls away, Connor sags against the couch and mutters, “fine”, but he’s smiling. 

“Yo, Evan.” Jared points another juice box at Evan. “Ready?” 

Evan holds up his hands. “Not really.” 

Jared tosses the juice box to him.  Evan fumbles with it and it falls to the couch. Connor grabs it as it bounces on the couch cushion and hands it to Evan. 

“Thanks.” Evan pulls the straw off the box and pulls the wrapper off. 

“Netflix is taking down all the good movies,” Zoe complains as Alana flips through the movie options. 

“That’s where illegal streaming comes in handy,” Jared says. “Just hook up your laptop to the TV with an HDMI cable and if your parents ask, you’re  _ totally _ on Netflix.” 

“That’s illegal,” Alana says flatly as she reads the summary of a Netflix Original series. “This looks terrible,” she murmurs as she adds it to Jared’s list.

Jared scoffs. “Like you’ve never done anything illegal before.” 

“I saw you jaywalk the other day,” Connor says. 

Alana narrows her eyes at the television. “Hardly a real crime.” 

“I think if I had to commit a felony, I’d probably commit tax evasion,” Jared decides. 

Zoe frowns. “Why is this something you think about?” 

He shrugs. “You never know what’ll come up in conversation.” 

“Do your mothers ever get concerned with your casual discussion of felonies?” Alana asks. 

“Usually Evan and I just play Lego Harry Potter,” Jared says with a shrug. He squeezes onto the armchair with Alana. She hands him the remote. He ends up putting on a show about terrible cooks, mostly so they can all feel better about their cooking abilities. 

Connor keeps bringing up Jared’s inability to make mac n cheese from a box and Jared threatens to kick Connor out of the house. They all eat way too much popcorn and Evan drinks more Hi-C than he probably drank throughout all of kindergarten. At some point, when they aren’t really eating anymore and they’re just watching people fail to make a grilled cheese, Connor’s hand finds Evan’s under the blankets that Zoe and Jared grabbed at one point. 

They’re just holding up the illusion, Evan reminds himself. 

Not that anyone else can see.

* * *

 

“Scale one to ten,” Jared says. 

Evan pulls his eyes away from plastic glow in the dark stars on Jared’s ceiling. Everyone else has gone home, Zoe stole the last of Jared’s pretzels and Connor stole a kiss and the Murphys drove Alana back to her house while Jared set up Evan’s air mattress on his bedroom floor. Now it’s after one in the morning and Connor is asleep on the other side of town and Evan is staring at the ceiling and Jared is sitting on his bed, petting Turtle. 

“What?” 

“On a scale of one to ten,” Jared repeats, “how much are you regretting this thing with Connor?” 

Evan looks back to the stars. “I…I don’t know,” he says. “I like…knowing him. A-and if we didn’t do this…”

“We wouldn’t be friends,” Jared says. 

Evan blinks. He’s not entirely sure what exactly Jared means by that.  _ Who _ exactly Jared is talking about. But… “Yeah,” Evan says softly. “So… I don’t know.” 

“This is fucked up,” Jared says. 

Evan closes his eyes. “I know.” 

Turtle meows in agreement.

* * *

 

Connor is standing next to Evan’s locker between classes. 

“How’d you know I’d come this way?” Evan asks as he spins his lock. 

Connor grins. “Psychic.” 

“Wow, amazing.” 

“Nah, I was just walking by and didn’t want to get to class too fast. If anyone tries to make small talk with me today, I might actually stab them with a pencil.” He steps back as Evan swings open the locker. 

“People talk to you?” Evan asks innocently. 

Connor crosses his arms over his chest. “Hey, I’m a great conversationalist. Zoe says it’s like talking to a wall.” 

Evan snorts. “Okay, Con.” 

“Whatever.” Connor steps a little closer as Evan pulls out one his books and slips something into Evan’s pocket. Evan blinks and reaches in, feeling the bill between his fingers.

“What’s this for?” Evan asks, tilting his head. He’s not sure if he’s forgotten something or not, but he’s still resisting the urge to push the money back into Connor’s hands. Evan doesn’t want it. 

“Come over today?” Connor asks. His eyes flick over Evan’s shoulder and Evan bites the inside of his cheek, wondering who’s behind them. Connor lifts Evan’s chin with the pads of his fingers and kisses him softly. 

There’s something about kissing Connor that makes Evan’s chest fill with a light and airy feeling. It’s like Evan could float away as he sinks into the kiss. He likes the way his skin feels against Connor’s, the way their noses press together, the way Connor is smiling a little into the kiss. 

It hurts like hell to know that it’s all just an act. But if Evan tries hard, he can pretend that it’s real for a kiss. 

“I’ll come over,” Evan says as he pulls away from the kiss. “I’ve got nothing better to do, anyway.” 

“Great, because I need moral support to get through this essay.” Connor wraps his arm around Evan’s shoulder and starts walking them down the hallway. They’re going to Evan’s next class, which Evan knows is in the opposite direction of Connor’s but he doesn’t bother mentioning it for now. A sophomore stares at them as they walk past and Connor gives her a harsh look until she scuttles away. 

“Is this the one Lana was talking about?” Evan asks once Connor’s stopped paying attention to the people around them. 

“It’s the lit essay, but who knows how many essays Beck is talking about at any given time,” Connor says. “I have no idea how she does it.” 

Evan steals another kiss at the doorway to his next class, because he’s a little frustrated because of the sophomore who was looking at them like her eyes were going to pop out of her head, and because he’s had to put up with PDA from a couple in this class for months and he can’t really get back at them in any other way. 

“I’ll meet you by your locker,” Connor says, walking backwards down the hall. Evan motions for him to turn around so he doesn’t trip or crash into anyone. Connor rolls his eyes, but turns on his heel and stuffs his hands in his pockets. 

Evan smiles and ducks into the classroom, feeling a few pair of eyes on him for a moment before the teacher starts teaching. 

—«·»—

Zoe tosses her keys at Connor. “Unlock.” 

Connor rolls his eyes and hits the unlock button. “Do you want help with the trunk?” 

“I’ve got it,” Zoe says. She sticks her saxophone case between her knees and reaches for the trunk. 

Connor leans over and pulls it open. 

“I said I  _ had it _ ,” she snipes, elbowing him in the side. 

“I’m being chivalrous,” he says. 

She slides her saxophone into the trunk. “Be chivalrous to your boyfriend or something.” 

Connor raises his eyebrows at Evan and opens the car door. “For you.” 

Evan shakes his head but climbs into the car. 

“Blast the heat!” Zoe shouts from the trunk as Connor closes the door. 

Connor leans over the front seat and turns on the car. He fiddles with the air controls for a few seconds before sitting back and buckling in. “Okay day?” he asks Evan. 

Evan shrugs. “Okay, I guess.” 

“You sound thrilled.” 

“Not everyone can just shit talk fictional characters all class,” Evan says flatly. 

Connor gives him a lopsided grin as Zoe pulls open the driver’s side door and collapses into the front seat. 

“Fuck this day,” she grumbles, buckling her seatbelt. She plugs the aux cord into her phone and unlocks it before handing it back to Evan. “Put on something  _ loud _ ,” she says. 

Evan closes out of her text messages and opens Spotify. Connor leans over his shoulder and watches him scroll through playlists while Zoe backs out of the parking spot. Connor picks a playlist that’s called ‘Maria Said To Call This ‘No One Even Likes Pep Band Music’’ and rock music blasts from the speakers. 

Evan blinks. “Uh—” 

“Good enough,” Zoe says. 

Connor shrugs. He takes Zoe’s phone from Evan and starts looking through her music. 

Zoe glares at him in the mirror. “Evan, stop him.” 

“I’m his boyfriend,” Connor says. 

“I’m his ride.” 

“She’s right,” Evan says. He pries Zoe’s phone out of Connor’s hand and locks it. “Sorry, Con.” 

“I should break up with you,” Connor says. 

“You won’t,” Evan says. Because he’s not entirely sure where this ends, but he’s pretty sure it’ll last until the end of the school year, just out of necessity. Plenty of relationships and friendships end after graduation— it’s a natural separator. There’ll be less questions asked and then they can just let this fade to nothing instead of faking some big dramatic breakup. 

Yeah. Evan can do that. He can. 

“No, I won’t,” Connor agrees. He meets Evan’s eyes. 

Evan can totally do this. 

—«·»—

Evan sits on Connor’s floor with a piece of watercolor paper. Connor is trying to write an essay about Wuthering Heights, but mostly he’s just spinning in his desk chair. Evan would be worried about ruining Connor’s paints, but when he said something about it, Connor had just told him that he bought them for ten dollars at Target. Then he drew a purple sad face in the corner of the paper and said “if you don’t fuck up the paints, I will eventually.”

Evan doesn’t know how to paint, but he’s content with just drawing different colored shapes. He looks up when Connor hits his forehead against the desk. 

“You okay?” 

“I’m going to murder Heathcliff,” Connor mutters. 

“I…don’t know who that is,” Evan says slowly. “But okay.” 

Connor shoves away from his desk. “Want to do something else?” 

Evan puts his paintbrush down. “Isn’t this due Friday?” 

“Want to do something else?” 

Evan raises his eyebrows. 

“Alana can help me tomorrow,” Connor says. “Let’s go for a walk or something.” 

“It snowed yesterday,” Evan reminds him. “There’s ice everywhere.” 

“That’s never stopped me before.” Connor starts to stand up and Evan pokes him with the end of of his paintbrush. “You can’t stop me.” 

“Probably not,” Evan admits. “But I can get Zoe and  _ she  _ can probably stop you.” 

Connor leans back into his chair. “I  _ am  _ taller than her.” 

“By like two inches. That’s not  _ that _ much in the grand scheme of things.” 

“Nothing is big in the grand scheme of things.” 

Evan rolls his eyes. “Deep.” 

“Classic lit puts me in a philosophical mood.” Connor looks up at the ceiling and spins his chair in a circle. “To be or not to be… I don’t know anything about philosophy.” 

“I don’t know if it’s really worth learning,” Evan says. “Does that even count as philosophy?” 

“Who gives a shit?” 

“Alana, probably.” 

Connor groans. “ _ Whatever _ . Can we  _ please _ stop being productive?” 

“I’m not being productive.” Evan holds up his paper. 

“I like that triangle,” Connor says, pointing to an orange triangle. 

“Thanks. I really see a future for myself in art.” 

Connor snorts. “Right. Come on, let’s find something to watch.” 

—«·»—  


YouTube is a bust — Connor keeps clicking out of videos a few minutes in and Evan can’t focus — so they end up downstairs on the couch watching a nature documentary. Part of Evan knows that they could totally just be watching this on Connor’s laptop in his bedroom, but being in the living room means that he’s laying against Connor’s chest and that Connor has an arm wrapped around him, and this is better so he just ignores that part of himself. Connor said something about the TV being higher definition than his laptop, but Evan doesn’t really care about that. He pretends to, but he doesn’t. 

When they’re about halfway through an episode about jungles, the front door opens. Evan sits up and sees Cynthia standing in the doorway. She looks kind of tired and rubs her temple as she puts away her keys. 

She meets Evan’s eyes and the exhaustion he thought he saw melts away. “Oh, hello, Evan. I didn’t realize you were coming over.” 

“Sorry,” Evan apologizes.

Connor pokes him in the side. 

“Don’t apologize, sweetie.” Cynthia puts her purse down and walks over to the couch. “Good day?” she asks. She presses a kiss to the top of Connor’s head. 

Connor glances away from the monkeys on the screen. “Fine. Where were you?”

“Meeting with Carolynn,” Cynthia says. 

“Oh. How was it?” 

“Fine, dear.” Cynthia fixes a pillow on the other end of the couch. “Evan, are you staying for dinner?” 

“I don’t want to intrude,” Evan says. 

“You wouldn’t be,” Cynthia says at the same time that Connor says, “stop that.” 

Evan gives Connor a look. Connor raises an eyebrow. 

“Do you like spaghetti?” Cynthia asks. 

Connor frowns. “What?” 

“I don’t feel up to anything else tonight,” she says. 

Connor looks like he’s about to say something else, but Evan interrupts him. He feels like he’s invading on something but he’s not really sure what. 

“I like spaghetti,” he says. “Thanks.” 

“Of course. I’ll call you two when it’s ready.” Cynthia gives Evan another quick smile before turning away. 

Connor watches her walk into the kitchen before he sinks into the couch again. 

“Okay?” Evan asks. 

“Weird,” Connor murmurs. He takes Evan’s hand and tugs him back against his side. 

“Who’s Carolynn?” Connor blinks and Evan blanches. “I mean—” 

“Her old boss,” Connor interrupts. “From before she stopped working. So…really really old boss.” 

“Oh.” 

Connor turns the volume on the TV up a little. 

“Hey, Connor,” Evan says softly as a hummingbird flits across the screen. 

“Yeah?” 

“What are you going to do next year?” 

Connor tenses. “Uh… I don’t know. I didn’t really think there was going to be a next year. What about you?”   

Evan grimaces. He shouldn’t have asked if he didn’t want the question turned around on him. “College, I guess? I mean, i-isn’t that…what I should do? What I’m supposed to do?” 

Connor looks at Evan. He doesn’t say anything, he just looks. Like he’s looking for something, but Evan doesn’t know what. 

“Connor?” 

“I don’t know.” 

—«·»—

They keep watching episodes of this nature show, because it gives them something to do. Zoe runs around the downstairs for a little while during an episode about deserts, leaving part way through and coming back with an armful of bags. Then she disappears back into her bedroom, and occasionally they hear soft strumming coming from her room. Cynthia commandeers the kitchen, checking in on Connor and Evan every so often and giving them status updates about dinner. She asks Connor how he’d feel about homemade bread — not tonight it’s too late for that, but at some point in the near future — and Connor gives her a weird look, so she turns to Evan instead. Evan stammers through some sort of sentence about never having made bread and Cynthia nods and disappears back into the kitchen until she forces Connor to get up and try the sauce to see if it needs more spices. 

When Connor comes back to the couch, he flops onto it and buries his face in the crook of Evan’s neck. “Moving is hard,” he grumbles, voice muttered. 

Evan has to agree. He runs his fingers through Connor’s hair as they watch tropical frogs on the screen and just focuses on the gentle narrative and the comforting weight of Connor leaning heavily against him. 

By the time Larry gets home from work, they’ve shifted back into something closer to their original position on the couch, with Evan half laying on Connor and Connor’s arm wrapped around Evan’s waist. 

Evan looks up at Connor when the door swings open and Larry’s voice fills the house. He rattles off some random dates as his keys jangle and drop into the bowl of keys and the door shuts behind him. His voice gets louder as he passes through the living room toward the stairs upstairs. Evan takes a measured breath and concentrates on the colors of the birds on the screen of the television, but Connor sits up a little, moving Evan with him so they can both see over the edge of the couch. 

Larry pauses at the base of the steps, lowering his phone from his ear. “When you bring Evan home, watch out when backing out of the driveway. The Thompson’s mailbox fell over. Miranda a few houses down is learning to drive, she probably hit it.”

“Ev is staying for dinner,” Connor says. When he says it, he runs a hand over Evan’s hair. Evan tries not to lean into the touch too much because that would  _ absolutely  _ be giving too much away. 

“It’ll probably still be there regardless of when you leave, the Thompson’s are away for the week. Deborah is at a conference and Paul probably won’t notice. Be careful.” Larry presses his phone to his ear again. “No, I’m here,” he says to whoever’s on the other end. 

“I will be,” Connor murmurs, sinking lower into the couch. 

Evan shifts. He feels off, not because Connor’s changed positions but because…well Evan isn’t really sure because of what. He feels uncomfortable, like something is wrong but he can’t name it. 

He decides to name it anxiety, because that’s the best he can do. 

“You okay?” Connor asks when Evan starts running his fingers over a pillow over and over again. 

“Tired,” Evan answers automatically.  

Connor sits up a little to give Evan a flat look. “Come on, I know better.” 

“I am tired,” Evan insists. 

There’s a crease between Connor’s eyebrows. “What can I do?” 

“Nothing right now. Promise.” 

“Promise?” 

Evan settles against Connor’s chest again. “Promise.” 

* * *

 

Evan grits his teeth as he sits in  english class. He feels like he needs to get out of his own skin or something— it’s an uncomfortable anxiety that he’s never really been able to deal with, because there isn’t anything that he’s thinking, he’s just feeling. And he’s feeling  _ wrong _ . 

Everything feels sort of fuzzy and tilted, the room is too hot and blurs when he moves his head. So he doesn’t, he just stares down at the page in front of him and is glad for the first time in his life that they’re doing a poetry unit and are supposed to be close reading a stanza. 

He digs his fingers into his arm. Sometimes that helps ground him, but right now he’s wearing a sweater and he can’t feel his nails against his skin. Probably a good thing. Also a bad thing. 

Evan reads the same line over and over again, finding a rhythm in it for his breathing that’s slightly slower. The breathing exercises only help sometimes, because other times, partway through his breath will catch and he’ll panic and then he’ll be back to square one. 

The teacher is asking questions about the stanza and her voice grates against Evan’s thoughts. He squeezes his eyes shut and when he opens them again, the words seem to swim around the page in front of him. Other voices join the conversation as the teacher opens the room to discussion, something that Evan has never minded until this moment. Usually, he just hides behind the conversation and only speaks if asked. Now, it feels like he’s being suffocated by the sound. 

Evan looks up from his paper and meets the teacher’s eyes. Gwen is arguing with Chris about chickens, and Evan isn’t sure if they’re real chickens or metaphorical chickens. All he knows is that he feels like he’s going to cry or pass out and he’s pretty sure he’s shaking. 

The teacher makes a small motion toward the door and Evan nods and gets up. He pulls at the sleeves of his sweater as he makes his way through the rows of desks in the back the classroom and slips out the door as Izzy shouts something about World War II. 

It’s not much better in the hallway, but that doesn’t change the fact that Evan almost collapses to the ground then and there, because his legs feel weird and his breathing is weird and everything is weird and off and wrong, but there are people working in the hallway and talking and laughing and he needs to be alone and he needs to be alone now. 

He goes toward the third floor bathroom because it’s usually empty and his steps echoing the stairwell and make him feel like he’s about to jump out of his skin. 

“Whoa!” 

Evan steps to the side and grabs onto the railing as Zoe hops a few steps to avoid crashing into him. 

“I’m so sorry,” she apologizes, pulling an earbud out of her ear. “Wasn’t paying attention.” 

“‘s fine,” Evan says, the words spilling out of him too loud and too fast. “I’m just gonna—” 

Zoe reaches for Evan’s arm and he jerks away. “Are you okay?” she asks, lowering her voice. “You look…” 

“Bad?” Evan asks weakly. He forces a laugh. “Y-yeah, I’m, uh. I’m fine. It’s—” He inhales sharply. 

Zoe narrows her eyes at him. “Okay, so that’s bullshit.” 

“I—” Evan shakes his head. “I need— I have to go.” 

Zoe stares at him for what’s probably only a second but feels like thirty. Evan wipes his hands on his pants. 

“Follow me,” she says. She skips a few steps to get back in front of Evan and starts down the hallway. 

“Weren’t you—” 

“Music theory,” Zoe interrupts. “Self taught because it’s a small class and Chadwick has to teach another class at the same time. It’s like an independent study. I’m not missing anything.” She leads Evan down the hallway where the few computer classrooms are and pulls a key out of her pocket. She unlocks a door and pushes it open, tugging gently on the sleeve of Evan’s sweater to pull him inside. 

“We aren’t supposed to be in here,” Evan says as soon as the door shuts. 

“I am,” Zoe says. She holds up the key. “Cis people are right,” she says dramatically, “trans people do get special treatment. Using the girl’s bathroom is sometimes…” She makes a face. “I don’t love this school.” 

Evan forces a laugh and leans against the bathroom wall. He’s had breakdowns in a lot of different parts of the school, but a faculty bathroom is probably the most exclusive place yet. He sinks to the ground when he notices his legs feel weak and is just glad it’s not the floor of the men’s room. 

Zoe squats down next to him. “Do you need me to do anything?” she asks softly. 

Evan shakes his head and presses the base of his palms into his eyes. He hears Zoe click the lock on the door and everything darkens a little when she flicks the lights off. 

“Evan?” 

Evan makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat. He’s crying now and his breathing is all jagged and off but he doesn’t know how to stop it and his mind is filling with static. 

He feels a gentle pressure on his hands and takes a shuddering breath. Zoe slowly pulls his hands away from his eyes, her face softly lit by her phone screen. 

“Breathe with me,” she says, holding his hands loosely. She inhales dramatically. lifting her shoulders and waits for Evan to follow. When he inhales, she exhales slowly and lowers her shoulders for Evan to copy. He can’t manage as exaggerated motions, but it helps a little. They sit on the floor and just breathe until there’s a gentle tapping on the door. 

Zoe straightens. “That’s Connor. I’m gonna stand up and open the door, okay?” 

Evan stares at her as she lets go of his hands. “What?” 

“Blueberry, apple, watermelon, peach,” Zoe says, like that explains everything. “I texted him.” She dusts her hands off on her pants and unlocks the door. “Might wanna close your eyes.” 

Evan squeezes his eyes shut as the door swings open. It closes just as quickly, and Evan feels a hand ghost over the top of his head. 

“Ev,” Connor says softly.

“Zoe left her phone,” Evan murmurs, opening his eyes and seeing the glow of the screen. 

“She’s outside.” Connor sits down in front of Evan and crosses his legs. “You okay?” 

Evan shakes his head. 

“Can I help?” 

Evan shakes his head again. He leans forward and presses his forehead against Connor’s shoulder. He’s almost okay. Not great, but okay enough to stop hiding in the bathroom for who knows how long. 

Connor combs his fingers through Evan’s hair. 

“Sorry for bothering you,” Evan mumbles after a minute has passed. 

“You aren’t bothering me.” 

“Bad class?” 

“Not really.” 

“Then—” 

“Hey,” Connor interrupts gently, “I know you’re worrying about it, but you don’t have to. I’m okay. And so are you. We’re just…chilling on a bathroom floor.” 

Evan laughs. It sounds a little strangled, but he’s not faking it. “I— I’m okay to go back to class now,” he says, pulling away from Connor. “I think. Uh, how much…?” 

“Like ten minutes,” Connor says. He tucks his hair behind his ear. “When you count walking time, hardly any.” 

“Okay.” Evan takes a slow breath. “Okay.” He picks up Zoe’s phone and hands it to Connor.

“You sure?” Connor asks.

Evan nods. Connor helps pull him to his feet and Evan braces himself for the bright lights of the hallway. 

Zoe’s leaning against the wall next to the bathroom, chipping off her nail polish. She stands up when the door opens and takes her phone from Connor. “ _ Shit _ ,” she hisses as she unlocks it and reads something on the screen. She squeezes Evan’s hand quickly. “Gotta go, talk later, hope you’re okay, bye!” she shouts as she runs down the hallway and skids around the corner. 

Evan stares at the empty hallway. 

Connor’s fingers brush against the back of his hand. “Okay?” he asks. 

“Y-yeah,” Evan stutters out. “Can you…?” 

Connor intertwines their fingers. “Can I what?” he asks softly, gently. Like he’s approaching a frightened animal. Evan’s insides twist. 

“Walk with me?” Evan breathes. 

Connor squeezes his hand. “Yeah, sure. Mine, then yours?” 

Evan nods. That way he can stall as long as possible. He doesn’t want to feel the eyes of his classmates on him or get prodded by the teacher’s questions. He wants to slip in, grab his stuff, and slip back out. Or just vanish. Or sink into the floor. 

As they walk through the empty hallways, Evan stays close to Connor’s side. Usually, they walk with space between them, their joined hands swinging in the open air. Now, Evan clings to Connor like a lifeline.

They take their time, wandering through the hallways and taking the long way. Evan knows the fastest ways to get to each part of the school, just like any self respecting senior in this school. It’s too small not to, but the five minutes between bells isn’t enough time to go to your locker and make it to your next class if they’re placed far enough apart. Add the crushing crowds, and five minutes can be barely enough. Hardly any of the teachers actually enforce tardies, but Evan is nothing if not paranoid. 

When they reach Connor’s classroom, the kids inside are starting to pack up. Connor squeezes Evan’s hand once more before letting go and stepping inside. Evan moves to the side of the doorway and presses his back against the nearest locker. Without Connor’s hand in his to stop him, his fingers find the hem of his sweater and start tugging and twisting.

Evan pulls back with a jolt when the bell rings and hits his back against the locker. The hallway starts flooding with people, and as soon as the sea of students is released, Connor catches Evan’s hand in his and sweeps him away. 

As they weave through the crowd, Evan alternates from wanting to be closer to Connor and wanting to be further away. It feels like every eye that catches his is burning into his soul. His palms start to sweat. Someone’s shoulder bangs against his and Connor draws him closer. That only makes the eyes worse and Evan’s breathing gets faster. 

Connor tugs them into Evan’s english classroom. Evan didn’t even realize they’d reached this part of the school, he’d been too focused on not tripping over his own feet. 

His teacher looks up from his desk. 

“Just grabbing his bag,” Connor says. He drops Evan’s hand and crosses the room to Evan’s desk in a few long steps. He shovels everything into Evan’s backpack and Evan watches and checks every few seconds to make sure that he’s still breathing, because he really can’t tell. 

Connor walks back over to Evan. He offers Evan the backpack and Evan slips it on. The weight is both overwhelming and familiar and comforting. 

“Thanks,” Connor says over his shoulder. He tugs on the sleeve of Evan’s sweater and pulls him back into the hallway. 

Now that passing period is about half over, there are less people in the halls and it’s a little bit easier to breath. There are less bodies crashing into Evan and jostling him back into his physical form. 

“Bad?” Connor asks under his breath. 

Evan nods. He keeps nodding. He can’t stop nodding. Or shaking. He can’t tell. 

Connor pulls him over toward a clear spot near the edge of the hallway. He runs his hand over Evan’s head and lets it rest on Evan’s cheek in what probably looks like a romantic and sweet gesture, but mostly just holds Evan still. 

“What’s making it worse?” Connor whispers. He grips Evan’s hand. 

Evan licks his lips. His mouth is dry and his voice is stuck deep in his throat.  _ Everything _ , he wants to say. 

Connor gently strokes Evan’s cheek with his thumb. 

Evan takes a shaky breath. “Everyone—” he chokes out. “Everyone…looking. At me. At  _ us _ .”  

Connor furrows his eyebrows and ducks his head a little closer to Evan’s. “Us?” 

Evan glances down to their joined hands, mouth souring. 

Connor’s hand drops from his cheek. “Has anyone said anything to you?” His whispers are harsh and fast. They grate against Evan’s eardrums. 

Evan shakes his head. “No, I— I don’t, I don’t know. I just…” He swallows thickly. “N-nothing…changed.” He doesn’t know why this is suddenly bothering him. They’ve been doing this for weeks, the stares haven’t changed. No one has approached him, people are still scared of Connor. 

Evan takes a shaky breath. His eyes are watering, so he closes them so he doesn’t cry. 

Connor takes his other hand in his. “Do we need to stop?” he asks carefully.

“No,” Evan says quickly, snapping his eyes open. “No. I— it just…all these people…looking at me, and, and…j-judging me and they— they don’t even know me or you and today it’s just—” He takes a short breath. “Too much. It’s too much.”  

Connor glances to the left. “Zoe’s right there.” 

Evan leans around him and sees Zoe walking with another junior. She meets his eyes and waves. She glances between him and Connor and tilts her head to the side. ‘Okay?’ she mouths. 

Evan nods. 

“You aren’t alone,” Connor promises. “You’re never alone.” 

Evan repeats those words to himself like a mantra. He jumps a little when the warning bell rings. 

One minute to get to class. 

“Where…where are you going?”  

“Lit,” Connor says with a tilt of his head. “You?” 

Evan shakes his head. “I don’t— I don’t think I can…” 

Connor nods. “Want me to come with you?” 

“It’s fine,” Evan finds himself saying despite the fact that he really wants Connor there, even if just to hold his hand. But that’s not how this works. That’s not how  _ they _ work. “Can we just walk to your class?” 

Connor squeezes Evan’s hand. “Yeah, let’s go. Alana might want to say hi, if that’s okay?” 

Evan hums as Connor leads them down the hall. He kind of wants to lean against Connor’s arm, let Connor take some of the weight. But he doesn’t and he won’t. 

Connor nods to Jared when they pass him. He sticks his tongue out at Connor and gives Evan a questioning smile before making a ‘call me’ sign with his fingers. Evan nods and tries to return a smile, but it feels like a grimace. He hopes it isn’t. 

They get to Connor’s class too quickly. 

Evan looks inside the classroom. Five other students sit inside, one on top of the desk and another on the floor, as the teacher sits at his desk, glancing up from whatever he’s grading every few moments. 

“Still early,” Connor murmurs. 

Evan nods. He braces himself for Connor to let go of his hand, for that grounding force to suddenly be gone. 

Connor pulls them out of the doorway and closer to the wall, away from the crowd in the center of the hallway. 

Connor runs his thumb over the back of Evan’s hand. “Are you sure you’re okay? I can—” 

“No, no, it’s fine,” Evan interrupts. He doesn’t want to make Connor do anything more that he doesn’t want to do. He doesn’t want to manipulate Connor anymore. 

“It’s  _ not _ ,” Connor says forcefully. “It’s okay that you’re not okay, but I want you to let me help. I  _ want _ to help.” 

Evan’s chest clenches up. He hates this act. He drops Connor’s hand.

Hugs. Hugs are free. 

He wraps his arms around Connor’s waist and buries his face in Connor’s sweatshirt. Connor’s arms are around him almost immediately, holding him tight. He doesn’t say anything, but he’s holding Evan together all the same. 

Evan doesn’t want to let go. 

—«·»—

Connor meets Evan by his locker like he always does. Evan spent the last classes of the day in the nurse’s office, sitting in the darkened room on a cot and staring at the ceiling, counting the holes in the tiles above. He tried to block out the sounds of other students in the office with music and headphones, but it was still all too much. 

“Hey, babe,” Connor says as he approaches Evan. He holds his hand out to Evan. 

Evan hesitates and then reaches out. He wraps their pinky fingers together and rests his head against Connor’s shoulder. 

They pass Jared and Alana in the hallway, huddled together to gossip about probably Student Council. Jared motions for Evan to call him again, and Evan mentally promises himself that he’ll try to remember. They meet Zoe in the band room. She makes Connor grab something of her’s from the instrument closet as she finishes packing up from band class. 

“Are you okay?” she asks softly once Connor’s walked away. 

Evan nods shortly. 

“I’m sorry about texting him.” She slides her music into her folder and closes it. “I wasn’t sure what to do and—” 

“It’s fine,” Evan says softly. 

Zoe stares at her folder. “I never know what to do,” she says. “But I thought…Connor might. I’m sorry if you didn’t want to see him or if that didn’t help.” 

“I did,” Evan admits. “You did fine, Zoe.” 

“You would tell me if I didn’t?” she asks, looking up at him as curls fall over her shoulder in waves. 

“‘Course.” He doesn’t know if he would. But he also hasn’t figured out what helps. He knows what hurts, but Zoe didn’t hurt. Zoe has never hurt, Evan just dragged her into the swirling whirlpool that is his life and now he doesn’t know if she’ll be able to get back out. 

_ He _ can’t even get out. He’s struggling to keep his head above the violent waters. 

Connor comes out of the instrument closet with Zoe’s flipbook and takes Evan’s hand again, pulling him up just a little bit more. 

—«·»—  


“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Connor asks. 

They’re standing on Evan’s doorstep. It’s barely two in the afternoon and the sky is already dark and heavy with clouds. Evan hates winter. He hates how thin the air is and how everything is dead and lifeless and cold. He’s sick of the slush and icy cold that sinks into his bones and soul. 

“I’m just gonna go nap,” Evan says. “I…yeah. I just want to sleep.” 

“Naps are nice.” Connor squeezes Evan’s hand. Evan pulls his house key out of his bag. “I really can stay if you feel…” Connor trails off and Evan unlocks the front door. 

“Don’t worry, I’m just…” Evan shakes his head. “Just, you know, a mood. I guess.” 

“Right.” Connor looks down at their hands. “My parents…they’re away. They left this morning— my dad has a conference thing and Mom went with because this is a yearly thing. And they won’t be back until Sunday morning. So if you need me…even if it’s fucking…three in the morning—”

Evan nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s— yeah. I’ll…let you know.” He glances back over his shoulder at Zoe’s car. He waves to her and she gives him a thumbs up and a smile from the front seat. “I’ll text you.” 

Connor bends down and presses a kiss to Evan’s nose. “Yeah, do that. I’ll be here if you need me. I’ll still see you this weekend, though, promise.” 

Evan nods and pulls his hand out of Connor’s. “See you.” Evan closes the door as Connor walks down the front steps and then watches from the window until Connor gets into the car and Zoe pulls out of the driveway.  

Evan steps away from the window and takes a deep breath. 

“I’m okay,” he murmurs to himself. “I’m totally fine.”   

—«·»—

Evan’s fingers twitch. 

He reaches for his phone, his mind blank. He unlocks it and pulls up his contacts, but then he finds himself just staring at the list He doesn’t know who to call. He doesn’t really know what to do. Connor told him to call him, but Evan doesn’t want to bother him. Part of him wants to call Jared, because Jared has been there through a majority of Evan’s crises, with one or two major exceptions. 

Evan locks his phone. He clicks the lock button repeatedly, watching the screen flicker on and off. He sinks the floor and pulls his knees up to his chest. 

Evan closes his eyes. 

He has techniques for this. He’s been going to therapy for over a year, he feels like he should know what to do when everything spirals, but he doesn’t and he never has. His phone hits the floor and he pulls at his hair. He squeezes his eyes shut tighter and focuses on his breathing. 

Evan thinks that he might hate breathing. 

Not in a suicidal way, not right now, but when he feels like this and the world comes down on his shoulders in a crushing weight, breathing is too tedious and frustrating. He can get a few deep breaths in and then it shudders and he’s panicking and not breathing and has to start over. 

Evan jerks back, hitting his head against the side of his bed, as his phone vibrates on the floor. He groans and rubs the back of his head as he reads the text. 

**From: Mom** **  
****To: Evan** **  
**      Picked up another shift, gonna be late tonight. Leftovers in the fridge but spaghetti tomorrow?

Evan presses the screen of his phone against his forehead. It’s cold, which is kind of nice. He lowers it to check the time. 

5:35 PM. 

Not too late then. 

Evan pulls himself off the floor. He pulls a heavier sweatshirt out of his closet and opens his window before he heads downstairs. He goes to the back door and opens it. The light above the back stoop has been out for years, so he leaves the door open and keeps the lights on in the living room. 

He’s just glad there’s a bit of covering over the step, because it’s relatively dry and snow free. 

Evan stares up at the sky. There’s nothing to see tonight, just a black sky of rolling clouds. Evan pulls the sleeves of his sweatshirt down over his hands.  He can barely see his breath forming little clouds in the air. The cold air makes his lungs ache and he feels lightheaded. Or maybe that’s the anxiety. He’s not sure. 

Evan rests his elbows on his knees and stares out into the darkness and lets his thoughts swallow him whole. 

When Evan’s ears start to hurt from the cold, he stretches his legs out in front of him and stands up. He goes back inside and closes and locks the back door. He heats up some leftovers in the microwave and sits on the counter as he eats poorly heated indian food, dealing with the alternating warm and cold bites instead of putting it back in the microwave. Then he gets down from the counter and washes and dries his bowl. He stands in front of the sink for a few minutes, letting the water run and watching it swirl down the drain. 

Slowly, he sinks to the floor. He pulls his legs up to his chest and rests his chin on his knees. His eyes flutter shut and he tries to quiet his mind. He wants it to be empty, he wants his thoughts to be gone. 

Sometimes it’s like he can’t breathe. 

Evan stays on the floor until his phone starts buzzing in his pocket. He opens his eyes and tugs his phone out of his sweatshirt pocket. The screen is lit up with messages from Jared and Alana, a group chat that Evan doesn’t remember being added to. Evan watches more messages load up on his screen, phone vibrating in his hands. The constant buzzing is an almost comforting stimulation.  

At some point, the messages stop and Evan’s screen goes dark. He stares at his reflection in the blackened screen, chest tightening. He’s sitting on the ground, but he feels like he’s falling.

Evan scrambles to his feet as he struggles to breathe. He starts pacing around the kitchen because he desperately needs to move. He winds around the table again and again, running his fingers over the old scratched wood and the mismatched chairs crowded around it. His fingers drag along a dent in the side of the table. He takes a deep breathe and traces it again and again. And again. 

He doesn’t know when his mom will be home. Probably after midnight. 

Midnight. 

He checks his phone. It’s 8:22. 

Midnight. 

He can make it. 

—«·»—

When Evan starts biting his fingernails, he knows he’s in trouble. 

He doesn’t like biting his fingernails. It’s never been a nervous habit of his, he’s always taken more to pulling at the skin around his nails than biting them. He used to be afraid of getting sick when he was little, so putting his hands in his mouth was something he always avoided. And with his mom being a nurse— it just never happened and now that Evan’s sitting on the edge of his bed chewing on his nails, he’s starting to panic. 

He’s not going to hurt himself, he’s not. He knows he’s not. It’s not the same, he doesn’t feel the same as last time. He’s not climbing a tree or digging through his mother’s bathroom cabinets or the medicine cabinets. 

Evan jerks his hand away from his mouth and stuffs his hands in his pockets. 

Fuck. 

He doesn’t want to be alone anymore. He doesn’t know what to do, because the thought of calling someone makes him want to throw up. His head is aching and he’s absolutely exhausted. It’s been too long and too tiring of a day. He just wants to wrap himself up in all the blankets in the house and sleep, but his brain would never stop whirling and the blankets would strangle him. 

Sometimes, when things get really bad, Evan remembers when he was really little, before his mom started working so much, just before his dad left. There was a thunderstorm in the middle of the night and it scared him out of his mind and bed. He ran into his parents room sobbing, afraid of the dark and the noises and the flashing and being alone. His dad was sent to Evan’s room to grab the stuffed dinosaur Evan always slept with while his mom pulled him up onto the bed and wrapped him up in her arms, telling him stories with a gentle voice and stroking his hair. 

Evan had been cocooned in love and warmth and  _ family _ . 

He genuinely doesn’t know when the last time he felt like that was. 

Evan chokes back a sob. This was a mistake. This was all a mistake. He slips off the edge of the bed and resumes his position on the floor from earlier that night. He misses his mom. He misses his  _ dad _ . He doesn’t think about his dad, he  _ never _ thinks about his dad, because it’s painful and grates against his soul and even just their rare phone calls feel like pulling teeth. 

Evan doesn’t know his father anymore. He doesn’t know if he’s  _ ever _ known his father. They don’t know each other. He doesn’t think he could call his dad family. He doesn’t really remember him, he just knows his mom. He’s only really ever had his mom— he knows his mom and her late nights and the stressed crease between her eyebrows and how that he knows she wants what’s best for him but how she helps is rarely helpful. 

Everyone who wants help never seems to help. 

Evan glances toward his closet and takes a shaky breath. 

He fumbles with his phone, wiping his fingers on his sweatshirt before unlocking it. It’s 11:24 now. 

Evan takes a deep breath and pulls himself off the floor. 

—«·»—  


Evan thinks he should be terrified of walking along the side of the road in the middle of the night. Even with street lights it seems darker than it should be. There are potholes and cracks in the road and sometimes a car passes by and it makes Evan jump. He doesn’t know his way without his phone, so he tries to conserve his battery by only using his GPS and not the flashlight. Focusing on making sure he doesn’t fall or get hit by a car at least forces him to be something other than anxious. 

He rolls his ankle over a rock in the sidewalk and swears under his breath as he stumbles. He goes from stumbling over things in his path and stepping in half melted snow. His shoes are soaked and his fingers are freezing, but he can feel the cold and that means he’s alive. 

He’s shivering by the time he reaches the street. He clenches his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering and steps around a snowbank on the street corner. 

There are no lights on in the house when he looks up at it, but he’s not surprised. It’s late— it’s so late. He should be in bed, what is he doing what is he doing what—

Evan forces himself to walk up the driveway, but when he gets to the door he feels like he can barely stand. He falls against the door more than he knocks on it. 

Evan resists the urge to turn and throw up in the bushes. 

A light flicks on and the door swings open. Connor runs a hand through his hair as he squints out into the darkness. His t-shirt is half tucked into his sweatpants and his hair is a mess. 

“Evan?” he asks. His voice is hoarse, like it’s laced with exhaustion.  

Evan opens his mouth, but no words come out. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth. 

“Did you text me?” Connor asks, digging into his pockets. 

“No,” Evan says quickly. “I— no.” 

Connor blinks. “Oh, why—” 

“I—” Evan swallows hard. His hands are sweating. He clenches his fingers.   
Connor glances down. “Wha—” 

“I can’t do this anymore,” Evan interrupts. He shoves the box at Connor. It hits Connor’s chest and Connor grabs it in surprise. “I— I’m sorry.” Evan chokes back a sob. He steps backwards before Connor can say anything. 

Connor fumbles with the top of the shoebox. Evan hurries down the front steps. He thinks he hears Connor say his name, but he isn’t sure and he doesn’t look back to check. Evan just keeps walking further and further from the light of the Murphy’s house. 

Evan starts crying. He doesn’t know when, but he does. The tears are hot against his cheeks but are icy by the time they reach his jaw. 

He just keeps walking. 

There isn’t anything else that he can do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [jared's bird videos for when things go to shit](http://transanabeth.tumblr.com/tagged/jareds-bird-videos-for-when-things-go-to-shit)


	16. $0

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conversations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** super tiny mention of drugs, anxiety, depression, mentions of and references to suicide attempt, references to zoe and connors relationship in musical, let me know if anything else should be added

Connor stares down at the contents of the shoe box that had been thrust into his arms. The bitter winter breeze swept away his voice, and now he’s just staring at a box full of money, lost. 

He’s trying to compute what just happened, what it all means, but his brain is just rebooting over and over again. Because it can’t accept what happened as fact. 

Connor has never been good about listening to his brain. 

He stumbles back into the warmth of the house as he shuts the shoe box again. He turns off all the lights and locks the front door in the dark and his hands are shaking, he can  _ feel _ them shaking and he doesn’t know how he’s completing the simple motion of turn the lock. 

He almost trips over the first step of the staircase. 

Connor’s fingers grip the cardboard, probably crushing the edges of the box. He moves through the dark hallway toward his bedroom feeling everything, feeling nothing. 

He shoves the box into his closet between a pile of old sweatshirts before shutting it. He slams his door shut and sits down on the edge of his bed.

He stares into the darkness of his bedroom for a long moment, before he reaches back. He feels around his bed until he feels soft fabric, and pulls it closer. He wraps himself up in the blanket — it’s old and covered in spaceships and still smells like fabric softener from the last time his mom washed it — and pulls his knees to his chest. 

Connor takes a shaky breath. He squeezes the blanket in his fists, reminding himself that this is real. This is real and he’s awake. This is his reality. 

Maybe it isn’t. Maybe he’s dreaming. 

There’s a knock at his door. 

“What’s wrong?” Zoe asks. “What happened?” 

“Nothing is wrong.” Connor doesn’t know when his voice came back to him. He didn’t think it would. 

There’s a pause as Zoe jiggles the doorknob. “You locked yourself in?” 

Connor doesn’t remember doing that. He closes his eyes and pulls the blanket up over his head. 

“I  _ will  _ call mom,” Zoe threatens. “Tell me what’s wrong so I know if I need to do something drastic.” There’s an edge to her voice, but also something else that Connor can’t name. 

He squeezes his eyes shut tighter. “Leave me alone.” 

Zoe goes silent, and then he hears her walk back to her room. Good. He needs…he doesn’t know what he needs. He feels off and wrong, empty and full. Kind of like he might snap, but also like he might just lay down and sleep for the rest of time. 

Connor tries to think about the essay he has to write for Lit. But that makes him think of Alana, who leads him back to—

Connor’s eyes snap open when he hears his window open. He twists to see Zoe half inside his room. 

“What the fuck?” 

Zoe pulls herself into the room and stands in the small space between Connor’s bed and the wall. “You never lock your window,” she says. She shuts the window. 

“…isn’t that dangerous?”   

“So are drugs,” she says. “Besides, I have practice.” 

Connor doesn’t think she’s ever entered his room this way before. He can’t even think of when she’d have  _ time _ to practice that maneuver. “Get out.” 

“No.” Zoe crosses her arms. “What happened?” 

Connor looks down at his comforter. He needs a new one. He’s had this one for a long time, and it’s starting to get thin. His mom would probably cry happy tears if he asked if they could redecorate some of his space. 

Zoe is still watching him. 

“…Evan came over,” he says softly. 

“Evan?” she asks “He was the one at the door? Then why—” Connor looks up to see Zoe’s eyes widen. “I’ll kill him.” 

“Zo, what the  _ fuck _ .” 

She sits down on the side of the bed. “I will make him miserable.”

Connor stares at her. “You don’t even like me. You  _ hate  _ me.” 

Zoe looks out the window. “…I’m your sister,” she says after a pause, “it’s, like, my job to get pissed if someone hurts you.” 

Connor takes a shaky breath.

“Connor…” 

“Don’t hurt Evan.” 

Zoe sighs. “Fine. I won’t. I’ll never speak to him again if you don’t want me to.”

That’s not what Connor wants. None of this is what Connor wants. Everything is too fast. 

“I’m sorry,” Zoe says. 

“Why?” Connor asks. His voice sounds weird. Hoarse, maybe. 

“That he hurt you.” She turns to face him fully. “That something that made you happy ended.” 

Guilt floods Connor’s system and turns his blood to ice. “I don’t care.”

“Yes, you do.” 

“No,” Connor insists. “I really don’t.” He was always going to have to reach this point, wasn’t he? 

No. He wasn’t. He was never going to get over Evan, because he’s a lost cause. Because he’s a sad fuck. 

“I don’t hate you, Connor,” Zoe says softly. Connor looks up in surprise. “I— I used to. And…there are things that…I don’t think I’ll ever forgive you for.” She clenches her fists in her lap. “But…you…you started to change. And…I-I saw you start to get better and work to get better and…I saw you becoming someone that I wanted to know.” Connor bites the inside of his cheek. “I saw the brother I loved— you  _ are _ that brother I loved…and love. I’ve hated you. I hated you for a long time. But I don’t…I don’t hate you anymore. I don’t hate you right now.” 

Connor ducks his head. His hair falls into his face and he’s glad that his bedroom lights are off, because it’s too dark for Zoe to see his shoulder shake or the tears on his face. 

But Zoe’s always been good at listening for the things people don’t say. 

“Connor?” she asks. He feels her hand as she gently brushes her fingers against his shoulder.   

“I-I’m—  _ fuck _ , Zo, I’m— I’m so sorry.” He buries his face in his blanket covered arms and tries to choke back the sobs, but he can’t. The pain he’s been holding back for however long it’s been since Evan said goodbye is clambering at the front of his heart, demanding to be felt and felt fully. His sister is sitting here, forgiving him even though she has every right to burn the bridges between them and leave him standing on a cliff’s edge in the fading smoke. 

Her hand is heavier on his shoulder now. “I know,” she says softly. 

“For the fucking—” Connor sniffs and scrubs some tears from his face. They’re hot and he tastes their salt on his lips and he hates them, he hates them so much, because he can cry until his head aches and his eyes are puffy and then he’ll feel nothing and nothing will be changed and nothing will be fixed. “For all the shitty things I’ve done, and everything I’ve said, and everything I’ve put you through, and—” His voice catches. “You shouldn’t be here.” 

Zoe squints at him in the darkness. “Why not?” 

“I…Evan…” Connor’s tongue feels heavy and thick in his mouth. The words don’t want to come out— he’s been lying for so long that he doesn’t know how to stop. 

She grips his shoulder. “Evan is  _ trash _ .” 

“Zoe,” Connor says harshly. His voice grates against his mind and hurts him. He wonders if Zoe can feel it too. “Zoe, stop.” 

She pulls away. “O-okay?”

“We—  _ I _ …” He takes a shaky breath. “It wasn’t real.” 

Zoe searches his face. He pretends not to notice the way she sits on the edge of his bed, feet planted on the ground and ready to run. The way her eyes dart from his to the door. Because  _ he _ is the reason for this.  _ He _ did this. 

He ruins everything. 

“What do you…what?” 

“It was  _ fake _ .” Connor chokes on the word. “It was all fake.”  

“Fake?” she asks softly. Like somehow the darkness of the room will muffle the word. “What do you—?” 

“I was paying him—” 

“I read your emails—” 

“—to be my friend and—” 

“—I read them and—” 

“ _ Zoe _ .” 

She stands up with a start. 

“Zoe,” Connor say again, softer. He sniffs and wipes his cheeks with the back of his hand. “We faked them.” 

“Faked them.” 

“Jared helped.” 

“Jared?” 

“You kept asking questions, you couldn’t believe…” Connor trails off. Because Zoe was right. There was no one on this planet who would want to  _ actually  _ be friends with him. 

“Oh my god…” Zoe says softly. “You… _ why? _ ” 

Connor pulls the blanket tighter around himself. “I wanted Mom to leave me alone for once.” 

Zoe scoffs. It’s higher than usual. Connor isn’t sure if that’s because she forced it or because she’s nervous or scared or— “Good fucking job with that. You really got her off your back when you tried to  _ kill yourself _ .” 

Connor digs his nails into the blanket. He resists the urge to move his hand to his arm and let them bite into skin. 

“Good thing you had your situation with Evan all figured out,” she says bitterly. “What would you have done if you died? Left him to figure that shit out?” 

“That wasn’t the plan—” 

“Then what was?!” Zoe snaps. “What…what was the  _ point _ of all of this!” 

“To seem normal!” Connor feels his eyes watering again. Shouldn’t he be out of tears by now. “To other people, so they’d stop talking about me and—” He swallows hard. “It got out of hand. I… I just…I fucked it up.”

“It was fucked up from the start,” Zoe says. 

Connor laughs. It’s such an opposite emotion to everything else he’s feeling that it hurts his chest. He can feel Zoe’s stare. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah it was.” 

“And Evan was—” 

“He was okay with it,” Connor interrupts. “He was fine with all of it— I…I  _ thought _ he was fine with all of it.”     

“Fake,” Zoe says again. She sits down on Connor’s bed, as far as she can get from him, and pulls her knees up to her chest. “God… I thought—” 

“Evan’s a good actor.” 

She looks up at him. “I don’t understand.” 

“It’s really not that complicated.” Connor runs his fingers over the edge of the blanket. It’s something that he thinks he’s picked up from Evan, this repetitive motion of feeling a texture. Part of him hates what he’s taken from Evan in speech patterns and ticks. The other part holds onto it with an iron grip. 

“ _ Evan _ is a good actor,” Zoe says slowly. 

“Convinced you. Convinced…convinced everyone.” 

“And all that time you two spent together?” she asks. “Were you just…wandering around getting high or…?” 

“No we spent it together. We just weren’t actually friends. Or actually dating. Or actually…anything.” 

Zoe gets up and walks over to Connor’s desk. She flicks on his desk light and points it toward the desk’s surface so it’s not as bright. “So you were…paying him…to be your friend— boyfriend. What changed?” 

Connor shakes his head. “You say that like Evan and I know anything about each other.” 

Zoe scrunches up her nose. “Do you even hear yourself?” 

“Last time I checked, my hearing is fine, thanks.” 

She rolls her eyes. “What do you  _ mean _ you and Evan don’t know anything about each other?” 

“We  _ don’t _ it was all a lie, how hard is that to understand?” 

She throws her arms out. “Evan knows more about you than I’ve ever known!”

“You never asked!” 

“I didn’t think you wanted me to!” 

“Oh fuck you for being respectful of my boundaries!” 

Connor jerks back. 

Zoe huffs and crosses her arms. “Of all the times in my life you’ve decided to start respecting me and my space,  _ now  _ is when you choose to do it?” 

He stares at her. He’s not really sure if she actually wants him to answer. 

She blows hair out of her face. “I’ve been wanting you to talk to me for months. I’ve been missing you for months, I— at the beginning of the year? No. I wouldn’t have said a goddamn word to you. But now? Of  _ course _ I wanted you to ask. 

“I don’t know you at all, Connor, but I— I wanted to. I want to know who you are because I don’t know who that is anymore. I thought I did and then you…” Zoe shakes her head. “I don’t know you like Alana does, because she loves talking to you. Don’t make that face, she does. And I don’t know you like Jared, because you two shit on each other all day and are still laughing at the end of it. And Evan—” Zoe sighs. “Con, I don’t even know what to say about Evan.” 

“Nothing,” Connor says gruffly. “ _ Nothing _ with Evan was real.” 

She pulls on her hair. “Shut up. Shut up! You don’t get to say that!” Her voice gets louder and louder and Connor is suddenly glad their parents are out. “You can’t say none of it was real when at least on your end it was!” 

He blinks rapidly. 

“You can’t  _ deny _ that it ended up being real, you like him.” Zoe gestures at Connor. “You  _ are _ his friend and you  _ do _ love him, you can’t lie about that. You keep saying over and over again that it’s all fake, this was all fake, and all I can do is think about all those times when I saw you two together and…and I keep thinking  _ how? _ How could that not have been real? But it was! It was real on your side!” She points at him. “And you’re just saying that it isn’t because you’re scared. Because he left.” Her voice cracks. “He left and now you don’t want to admit to me that everything you felt was real. And just slapping a label on it, just saying it’s fake— that doesn’t change anything.” 

“You have a lot of thoughts about my fake bo— ex-boyfriend,” Connor says. 

“I hate you.” 

Connor closes his eyes. “I told you what’s wrong, can you let me wallow in it now?” 

“Did you really mean it?” Zoe asks suddenly. 

He opens an eye. “Mean what?” 

“That you and Evan aren’t…friends?” 

Connor raises his eyebrows. “Do I look like I have friends?” 

Zoe blinks. “…yeah?”   

“I don’t,” he says flatly. “Maybe you need glasses.” 

She shakes her head. “What is your definition of friendship?” 

“Why does that matter?” 

“Are you sure you and Evan aren’t friends, if you spent so much time toget—” 

“Stop.” 

She huffs. “Okay, Jared.” 

Connor shakes his head. “Helping me for Evan.” 

“Alana.” 

“Used me to get to Evan.” 

Zoe furrows her eyebrows. “Me.” 

“You’re my  _ sister _ , not my  _ friend _ .” 

She looks down at her hands. “Right.” She starts to stand up. She takes a long look at his bedroom door before looking back to him. “Do you want to be alone?” 

Connor rolls his eyes. “I already asked you to leave. You don’t have to stay with me, I’m fine. I’m  _ safe _ .” 

“…I didn’t mean right now.” She spins one of her earrings. “You… Have you ever noticed?” 

“Noticed what?” 

“You isolate yourself,” Zoe says, “when things start to get shitty. And right now, you’re jumping through hoops to explain why no one likes you. I know it’s hard to accept that people genuinely want to be friends with you, but…” she trails off and stares at the door again. 

Connor doesn’t really know where she’s going with this. Yeah, he’s noticed. It’s not always a conscious choice that he’s making, but he definitely notices. It’s easier to deal with things going to fucking shit if there aren’t other people he has to think about. Now there isn’t anyone to think about. 

Zoe takes a deep breath. “You aren’t allowed to give up.” 

Connor turns to her. “What?” 

“Evan…helped,” she says slowly. Connor opens his mouth and she backtracks “Which isn’t to say that he was magically…curing your depression or something but… I think that having him, having  _ someone _ , to talk to—” She glances to Connor. “I mean I  _ assume _ you talked about that sort of stuff but…I think…from my perspective…that helped? Spending time with him and getting out of the house and…” Zoe looks away. “I guess having his support and him understanding you was good. Having a support system outside of…us. But now he’s gone and—” 

Oh. 

“I don’t want you to go back to the beginning of this year,” she whispers. “So maybe I don’t totally get it, but I’m here and I-I can listen. I want to help, I want— I want to be the sister you actually need, not the sister that you think hates you.”  

Connor starts to reach out, stopping a few inches away from Zoe. She stares at his hand for a second before grabbing it and squeezing it softly. 

“You have friends,” she says. “Friends who don’t care if you think the friendship is fake or not.” 

“Okay,” he says. Because he’s too drained to argue with her. 

Zoe tugs on his hand. “Come on.” 

“What?” 

“Come on.” She gets to her feet and pulls on his arm with both hands. 

“Zo, no.” 

“Mom and Dad are gone until Sunday afternoon,” she says, “and that means that we’re going to sit on the couch and watch romcoms and eat chocolate.” She yanks him again and pulls him out of bed. 

Connor stumbles and catches himself on his desk. “Romcoms?” 

Zoe drags him out of his bedroom and into her own. “Romcoms,” she repeats. She gathers up her laptop and some wires in her free hand. “We’re going to illegally watch romcoms.” 

“Why?” 

She shrugs. “Because that’s what everyone does to deal with breakups. Junk food and romcoms. duh.” 

Connor doesn’t bother correcting her use of the word breakup. “Junk food…and romcoms?” 

“I don’t know what else to do in this situation, so yes. Junk food and romcoms.” Zoe leads him downstairs and shoves him onto the couch. He watches as she hooks her laptop up to their TV and loads up a movie. Then she disappears back upstairs. Connor stares at the webpage on the screen until Zoe dumps a pile of blankets on his head. As he untangles himself, she leaves again, and by the time he’s sorted through the blankets and made himself a nest, she’s holding out a bag of Sour Patch Kids him. 

“Mom is going to kill us,” he says as he takes it from her. 

Zoe grins. “Oh well.” 

—«·»—  


“That’s so much pink,” Connor says. 

Zoe shrugs and takes another handful of popcorn. “It’s a look. Let it happen.” 

He nods. “Right…so…is she going to get back with whatever his name was? Warren?” 

“Warner,” Zoe corrects. “And just watch the movie!” She throws a piece of popcorn at him. 

Connor catches it in his mouth. “Kay, sorry for doubting the power of Elle Woods.” 

“As you should be.” 

He glances away from the TV to study her face. “Is this what you and your friends do? When one of them goes through a breakup?” He’d ask if it’s what she does, but she’s never brought a significant other home before, smart, and he doesn’t even know if she’s had one before. 

Zoe stuffs a handful of popcorn in her mouth. “I don’t know,” she says after a few moments have passed. “I’m not really the friend they’d go to for this sort of stuff.” 

“Why not?” 

“I’ve always had other things to deal with,” she says simply. She turns up the movie a little bit louder. “I’m not really that into talking people through relationship drama, so…” 

Connor watches Elle throw chocolate at the television and yell “You liar!” “Do you want pizza?” he asks Zoe. 

She furrows her eyebrows. “Connor, it’s one in the morning. Nowhere is open.” 

“Gas station is,” he says through a handful of popcorn. 

Zoe narrows her eyes. “That’s gross.” 

“No not the gas station pizza, the frozen pizza.” 

She nods slowly. “Frozen pizza… Do  _ you _ want pizza?” 

They stare at each other for a long moment before throwing off their blankets and standing up from the couch. Connor pauses the movie while Zoe puts the popcorn on the coffee table. She grabs the keys off the key ring and shoves on her shoes. 

Zoe throws the front door open and flicks on the outside lights. She skips the steps and just hops onto the stone path, unlocks the car and waves back to Connor. 

“Come on,” she says. “You’re gonna let bugs in.” 

Connor steps outside and closes the door. The winter air hurts his lungs, it reminds him of when he had a hard time breathing in the cold when he was little and his mom would wrap him up in scarves before school, because they kept insisting on having outdoor recess.  

He swallows thickly and follows Zoe into the car. 

—«·»—

They’re the only ones in the gas station other than the very exhausted and bored looking employee standing at the register. Zoe disappears into the freezer section while Connor wanders through the chips and candies. He grabs a few chocolate bars out a box, because he’s not sure if chocolate will make him feel less like shit, less like he’s been ripped to pieces, but he’s willing to try. He grabs a Milky Way too, because he knows it’s Zoe’s favorite. 

“Want ice cream?” Zoe asks from the end of the aisle. She has a large frozen piece tucked under her arm and a bottle of soda in her hand. 

“Mom’s going to have a fucking heart attack,” Connor says as he joins her by the ice cream. 

“What she doesn’t know won’t kill her,” Zoe says. “We just have to remember to eat it all and take out the trash before they get home on Sunday.” She pulls out a container of cookie dough ice cream and tosses it to ice cream. 

They check out, Zoe pays with cash, they tip the cashier five bucks, and then go out into the car. 

Zoe pulls two spoons out of the glove compartment. “Always need to be prepared,” she says, handing one to Connor before opening up her pint of ice cream. 

They eat their ice cream in the gas station parking lot, music playing so softly from the speakers that Connor can’t even decipher the words anymore. He has a brain freeze from his ice cream, but it’s kind of good to feel something that’s just neutral right now. 

“How are you?” he asks when he’s almost halfway through his ice cream. 

“Hm?” Zoe asks around a spoonful of cookie dough. 

“How are you?” Connor repeats. They don’t just  _ talk _ , they’ve never really just talked. He doesn’t even think he really knows how normal siblings interact with each other. 

“Okay,” Zoe says. “I mean, I’m a junior, it sucks.” 

“Being a senior sucks too.” 

Zoe rolls her eyes. “Yeah, for the first, like, three months. then it’s just a waiting game. Junior year is when shit goes down.” She stabs her ice cream a few times. “Just like…trying to buff up my application. Practice more. Get better. The usual.” 

“Are you playing in the pit for the school musical this year?” Zoe gives him a weird look. Connor looks down to his ice cream. “Alana mentioned it, she’s helping out. I think she’s a student director or something.” 

“Yeah, I think so,” Zoe says slowly. “Sometimes the director hires actual professional musicians, but if she’s okay with it…I’d like to.” She takes a bite of her ice cream. “It’s nice to like…be part of stuff like that. Productions and stuff. It feels like…more tangible than just practicing all the time or something.” She shrugs. “I don’t know.” 

Connor nods. He doesn’t know either. “Have fun with whatever the show is.” 

Zoe snorts. “Yeah, I’m sure I will.” 

—«·»—  


“Anne Hathaway was my first crush,” Zoe admits. It’s almost four in the morning, and they’re about halfway through the first Princess Diaries movie. 

Connor laughs. “Nice, Zo.” 

“At least she’s a real human,” she says. She raises her eyebrows. “I mean, Prince Eric?”    

Connor flips her off. “No insulting Disney princes in this house.” 

“Hans is technically a Disney prince,” Zoe says thoughtfully. 

“What?” 

“He’s a prince in a Disney movie.” She shrugs. “Disney prince.” 

“Yeah but he’s also  _ evil _ , it doesn’t count.” 

Zoe gives him a goofy grin. “Are you seriously debating the semantics of Disney with me right now?” 

Connor crosses his arms over his chest. “Only because you’re  _ wrong _ .”

Zoe looks back to the TV. “Mia’s technically a Disney princess,” she says. “So are the Star Wars characters, now.” 

“We need to go the fuck to sleep.” 

“Probably.” 

—«·»—  


Connor wakes up at noon, with one of Zoe’s legs thrown across his chest and the worst crick in his neck. He sits up with a groan and pushes Zoe off of him. The TV is on Zoe’s Netflix. They must’ve fallen asleep before whatever they were watching last ended. Not that Connor can really remember. 

Connor stands up and yawns. He picks up some of the trash that they left on the coffee table and brings it into the kitchen. He dumps the silverware into the sink and the containers into the trash. He stands at the open fridge for a few minutes, trying to decide what to eat, until Zoe pads into the kitchen. 

“Wanna make pancakes?” she asks. 

Connor mostly just leans against the counter while Zoe makes the pancakes. They’re no longer eight, so he’ll just get in the way. When the batter’s done, she passes him the bowl and he gets to work cooking them, spooning the batter out onto a sizzling griddle and flipping once the edges are dry and bubbling. 

Zoe plays some playlist from her phone as he works and wanders around the room braiding her hair. 

“What are you doing today?” she asks, sitting on the top of the island. 

“Nothing, I guess,” Connor says. If he was going to have any plans, he doesn’t anymore. He kind of likes the idea of going to sleep for a while. Maybe doing that reading he’s supposed to do for english but doesn’t want to. 

“I have a paper to write,” Zoe says, “but afterward, we can watch Mamma Mia if you want.” 

Connor flips this batch of pancakes with a frown. “Mamma Mia?” 

“You know,” Zoe says with a wave of her hand, “Abba songs, girl with three dads, Greek island romance…” 

He turns to look at her. “You want to hang out with me today?”

Zoe blinks. “Yeah.” 

“Why?” 

“I’m making up for lost time.” 

—«·»—  


They do their homework on the dining room table, like they used to when they were little. Connor puts his feet up on the table and Zoe sits criss crossed on the chair. She types away at an essay while Connor flips through The Inferno and dreads whatever essay he’s going to have to write about it. Especially now that— 

He lowers the book. He’s going to have to find a new seat in english. He’s going to have to come up with a new morning routine, go back to skipping lunch, take his books out of Evan’s locker— 

“—kay?” Zoe asks. 

Connor shakes his head. “What?” 

She furrows her eyebrows. “You okay?”  

“Just thinking,” Connor says. 

Zoe goes back to working on her essay, but she keeps looking up at him like he’s going to break. But she lets him edit her essay, so it can’t be that bad. 

—«·»—

“What time do Mom and Dad get home tomorrow?” Connor asks. 

Zoe pauses their video game. They’re attempting to play Portal Two for the first time in years, and it’s not going well. They don’t really work well together and also Connor is shit at any video game that isn’t Wii Sports or Mario Kart. 

“Like noon,” Zoe says. “The conference ends tonight, so they’re leaving once they wake up tomorrow.” 

Connor nods. “So I can keep being moping around the house without being in Dad’s way?” 

Zoe rolls his eyes. “Dramatic, much? But yes, you’ll be fine. What do you want for dinner tonight, anyway? We have leftovers but—” 

“Wanna buy Chinese food and watch nature documentaries?” Connor interrupts. 

Zoe smiles. “Yeah, that’d be good.” 

—«·»—

He told Zoe he was going to bed hours ago, but now he’s just laying in his bed as his thoughts swirl angrily through his mind. 

Connor sits up with a sigh and turns on his desk light. He swings his legs off the side of the bed and makes his way over to his closet. He carefully pulls out Evan’s shoebox and sets it on the floor. With a deep breath, he takes off the cover and stares at the money inside. 

Evan kept it. It looks like Evan kept  _ all _ of it. Connor isn’t exactly sure how much he paid Evan, but he knows it was a lot. Looking at it is worse, seeing the pile of money in front of him, seeing the weight of the lie… 

Connor takes a shaky breath. Evan kept it all. That  _ means _ something, something that hurts too much to really acknowledge. 

He puts the top back on and returns the box to its space in the closet. He’s not sure he’ll ever spend that money. It’ll probably just stay there until someone else finds it. Like a treasure chest he always dreamed of digging up when he was little. 

A box of gold. And cursed to hell.

* * *

 

Connor blinks blearily at his ceiling. He can’t sleep any longer, no matter how much he might want to. He follows the lines of his ceiling until he feels a little more settled and then rolls over and pulls his phone out from under the pillow. 

It’s almost two in the afternoon, which doesn’t make sense. He also has a few missed texts from Zoe. 

**From: Z** **  
** **To: C** **  
**      Told mom and dad you and Evan broke up    
     Before you get mad at me   
     This means mom won’t be asking about Evan any time soon   
     Well I mean she might but it’ll probably be more of a ‘let’s talk about your emotions’ thing than a ‘when’s he coming over again’ thing   
     Also I told them that’s why you were sleeping in so you can thank your favorite sister for that

Connor squints at the screen. 

**From: C** **  
** **To: Z** **  
**      youre my only sister

**From: Z** **  
** **To: C** **  
**      I know

**From: C** **  
** **To: Z** **  
**      thank you

**From: Z** **  
** **To: C** **  
**      Of course

—«·»—

His mom is sitting at the dining table with a book when he finally comes downstairs. She looks up at him with a soft smile, one that doesn’t completely reach her eyes.

“Hi, sweetie,” she says. “Sleep well?” 

Connor shrugs as he trudges into the kitchen. “I guess.” 

Cynthia follows after him. “We brought home donuts, if you want any. I think there’s still some coffee left from this morning if you want to heat it up in the microwave.”

“Thanks,” Connor murmurs. He pulls a mug out of the cabinet. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Cynthia asks as Connor’s mug spins in the microwave. 

“Not really.” 

“Sometimes it helps.” 

“I know.” Connor pulls the microwave door open before the timer can beep. “I just…” He runs his free hand through his hair. He needs to shower. It’s gross and tangled and greasy. “I don’t know.” 

“I know,” Cynthia says. She puts a hand on Connor’s shoulder and then lets it slide down to his back, where it rubs comforting circles. “It’s going to hurt, but it will get better. I promise.” 

Connor doesn’t believe her, but he nods and drinks his coffee black all the same. 

—«·»—

Connor is on his floor filling a sketchbook page with purple when there’s a knock on the door. “What?” he asks, pulling out an earbud, because he told his mom that he has a headache and Zoe’s been giving him his space today. 

Larry opens the door and peaks inside. “Hey, Connor.” 

Connor lowers his paintbrush. “Hey.” 

Larry steps further into the room. “How are you?” 

Connor scoffs. “Really? We’re doing this?” 

Larry shifts uncomfortably. “No,” he admits. “Your sister sent me up here to let you know that she found Lilo and Stitch illegally on the internet and has her laptop hooked up to the television downstairs. I do not condone this.” 

Connor stares at his dad. “…she couldn’t tell me herself?” he eventually says. 

Larry gestures toward the stairs with a nod. “She’s making popcorn. And is very insistent that you come downstairs.” 

Connor looks down at his painting. It needs to dry before he can continue anyway. Everything is running together and smearing. “Okay.” He puts his water cup and sketchbook on his desk. “Thanks.” 

Larry steps aside as Connor turns off the lights and steps out into the hallway. Connor starts when he puts a hand on his shoulder. 

“I’m here,” Larry says. “If you need to talk.” 

Connor blinks. “I know,” he says. He tries to keep his voice from cracking. 

He joins Zoe on the couch and wraps himself in a blanket. The quality of the movie isn’t the best, but they lost the DVD years ago when Zoe and Connor were fighting and he broke one of her favorite toys and she retaliated by hiding it. One of these days, they might find it behind a dresser or something, but for now, he’ll settle for the slightly grainy quality of the image. 

He hugs a pillow tight as Zoe makes her way through the bowl of popcorn. It’s been ages since he watched this movie, but it feels like the first time and like he never stopped watching it at the same time. 

“ _ Ohana means family _ ,” Stitch says. “ _ Family means nobody— _ ”

“ _ Gets left behind _ ,” Nani finishes. 

“ _ Or forgotten _ .” 

Out of the corner of his eyes, Connor sees Zoe looking away from the screen as she starts to tear up. He hugs the pillow closer to his chest. 

—«·»—

“I need to go out,” Connor says. He grabs his coat from the hooks by the door and pulls on his boots. 

“Go out where?” Cynthia asks from the kitchen. Her voice is doused in worry and even though Connor knows it’s only because she cares about him, it makes him roll his eyes. 

“He’ll be alright,” he hears Larry promise, just as Zoe shouts, “I’ll drive you!” 

She runs out the kitchen, snatching her car keys off their hook as Connor reaches for them. “I’m a way better driver than you at night,” she says, stuffing her feet in her boots and pulling open the door. “Be back later!” she shouts, tugging on Connor’s arm. 

“Text us!” Cynthia shouts. “Don’t be out too—” 

Zoe shuts the door. She huffs and her breath forms little puffs of cloud. “Mom’s freaking out.” 

Connor scowls. “I’m fine.” 

“Whatever.” Zoe throws him the keys. “I’ll just sleep in the car or whatever, but you’re taking me with you.” 

“Fine.” 

Connor starts up the car and Zoe adjusts the heat. She fiddles with the radio as Connor backs out of the driveway and starts driving. Once she’s found a station she’s happy with, she rests her head on the window and closes her eyes. 

Connor drives up and down back roads until he can breathe again. He passes old haunts and trails, covered in slush and half melted snow. 

He hates February. It’s cold and tired. Winter drags on, no longer sparkling and white, but dirty and washed out. He’s always been convinced Valentine’s Day is really only in February to give any source of happiness in a month where the sun never shines and the temperature stays firmly below freezing. 

Valentine’s Day. They would’ve done something—  _ he _ would’ve done something. 

Connor stops carefully at a stop sign and exhales slowly. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply. When he opens them again, he flicks on his headlights, turns left, and keeps going. 

—«·»—

Zoe sits up with a start when Connor parks the car. 

“Where are we?” she slurs sleepily. 

“Old elementary school,” Connor says. He unbuckles his seatbelt. “You can stay here if you want, It’s fucking freezing.” 

“No, I wanna come.” She opens her door and slides out of the car. 

It hasn’t snowed in days, but no one comes here, so it crunches like it’s still fresh under their feet. Connor thinks that this place is perfect for snow angels as he stares out across the snowy field. 

“I forgot about this place for years,” Zoe murmurs. “Until…the other day.” She looks to Connor. 

Connor stuffs his hands in his pockets and stares across the playground, dark and frozen and lit by one sad streetlight. His breath freezes in the air— they used to pretend to be dragons. Now it’s a reminder that he’s still here. 

“Is this where you come?” Zoe asks. “When you don’t want to be found?” 

Snow is starting to melt into his boots. “Yeah.” 

“You showed it to Evan. You’re showing it to me.” 

Connor’s chest tightens. “…yeah.” 

“Are you—” Zoe’s breath catches. “Will you keep coming here?” 

The silent is icy. It feels like the night is seeping into Connor’s bones and holding him here, rooted to the ground, pulled into the past and the present and the dark and miserable and decaying future. 

“I won’t come here,” Zoe says softly. “Not if you don’t want me to. If you…left, or something. I’d— I’d wait. Until you told me it was okay.” 

“Okay.” 

The snow crunches under Zoe’s boots as she steps closer to Connor. She touches his shoulder lightly before pulling him into a tight hug. Connor clings to her, pressing his face into her shoulder and trying not to let the tears in his eyes stream down his cheeks. 

She rests her chin on his shoulder and rubs circles on his back. It reminds him of how she would sometimes hug him when they were younger and things were first getting bad, and when she pulled away she would always say, “Mom told me to come give you a hug.” 

Connor chokes back a sob. His fingers tighten on the fabric of her coat. “I’m sorry,” he chokes out. 

“I know,” Zoe says hoarsely. “I’m sorry too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> zoe is saying she's sorry that this situation is shit, i just want that to be clear because i personally feel like zoe doesn't have to apologize to connor in comparison. just my onion
> 
> thank you all so much for waiting so patiently (?) for this. anyone whos still reading that is. things have been really super hard, and i swear i wrote half of this tonight after crying like three times and listening to 'two' by sleeping at last. i've actually been listening to sleeping at last for like 3 hours while working on this.
> 
> this is the shortest chapter there's been in a While and it's not very good, in fact i haven't even read it all the way through, but i'm very tired and feel very very shitty, so it's going up now. 
> 
> most of this chapter was written back in october or november of last year. there are a lot of conversations i've been waiting to write for a long time. i don't think they flow well or were done justice, but i tried and i kept them in because i think that they're conversations that these two SHOULD have and would NEED to have but yeah. again, just my onion
> 
> i'm on [tumblr](http://zoemurph.tumblr.com) if you ever wanna talk. i'll try to see you in a month


	17. authors note

hi, this is just the author saying this fic **is not** abandoned and i have every intention of finishing it. however, i just need some time due to life events that have made it very difficult for me to write content for deh. if you're interested you can read [this post](https://zoemurph.tumblr.com/post/179398641838/deh-thaf-and-real-life) i've made on my tumblr as well as check that tumblr for updates on if i've written more. 

i'll likely write the last three (that's right only three more chapters to go) at one time and then upload them over the course of a week or two. i'll be deleting this chapter when i get around to that. 

thank you so much for being so patient with me and for being such lovely readers despite my slow update schedule and sometimes less than stellar chapters, it means a lot to me. 

thanks <3


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